Jade didn't sleep.
Every time she closed her eyes: Amber's confession, Blake knowing, her parents' admission. The past twisted into something uglier, harder to carry.
By morning she felt hollow. But she went to school anyway. Because home meant being alone with her thoughts. And that was worse.
The halls were crowded when she arrived. Lockers slammed. Laughter too loud. Shoes squeaking against tile. Jade noticed none of it. Her mind was elsewhere.
Halfway to her locker, a voice stopped her.
"Jade."
She froze. Slowly turned.
Blake stood a few feet away. For a moment, silence. She studied his face carefully. Different today. Less cold. Less angry. But not calm—uneasy. Uncertain how this would go.
"What do you want?"
He rubbed the back of his neck. "Can we talk?"
She hesitated. Part of her wanted to walk away. Leave him standing with words he should have said years ago. But another part still needed answers.
Small nod. "Fine."
They walked to the building's side, where it was quieter. Morning air cool, courtyard mostly empty.
Blake stopped first. Jade stayed three feet back. He noticed the distance immediately. It hurt more than he expected.
"I know the truth," he said.
She crossed her arms. "About what?"
"Amber."
Something flickered. "She told me."
He shook his head. "No. I heard her."
Jade went still. "What?"
"Yesterday. I overheard her." His jaw tightened. "She admitted everything. The message. The lie. All of it."
Jade stared, waiting for the words to change. Then—a small, empty laugh. "So… you know."
He nodded once.
Silence stretched. She looked away. "That's great."
The bitterness twisted in his chest. "Jade—"
"You hated me for three years." Her voice cracked on the last word.
He swallowed hard. "I know."
"You believed I ruined your life."
He didn't deny it.
"You never even asked if it was true."
The words landed hardest. Because she was right. He had never asked. Just believed the worst.
"I thought it was," he said quietly.
She shook her head, disbelief and cruelty mixing in the gesture. "Of course you did."
He took a small step closer. "I was wrong."
She didn't answer. Eyes lowered, fixed on ground that wouldn't judge her. So he said the part that mattered. "I'm sorry."
Heavier than expected. Not because difficult to say. Because not enough. She looked up then. "Sorry?" Trembling. "You think sorry fixes three years?"
He didn't answer. It didn't. Couldn't.
"You looked at me like I was the worst person alive." Tears gathering. "Treated me like I betrayed you." Breath shaking. "And all that time… I thought you were dead. "
Blow to chest. He looked away, jaw tight. "I know."
She wiped angrily at her eyes. "My parents told me you died after the accident."
Slow nod. "I know that now."
"They lied to me." Quieter now. Worse for it.
He hesitated. "I think they thought they were protecting you."
Her expression tightened instantly. "They weren't."
He didn't argue. She was right about that too.
Silence settled. Different now. Not sharp. Not angry. Just heavy with everything lost.
Slowly, Blake reached into his jacket pocket. Jade's eyes tracked the movement. He pulled out something small. Held it toward her.
A photo.
She hesitated before taking it. Then—breath catching.
Old, slightly bent at edges. The two of them beneath the oak tree near the park. She was laughing at something he'd said, whole face lit with it. And Blake—smiling. Real smile. Not the guarded expression he wore now. Not the colder version he'd become. Just Blake.
"You kept this?" Softly.
He nodded. "Never threw it away."
She stared for a long moment. Memories pressed in: afternoons in sun, late-night conversations, the way he used to look at her like she mattered. Promises made when they still believed promises could last.
Fingers tightened slightly around the photo. "You really thought I betrayed you."
His voice dropped to whisper. "I was angry. Hurt. I believed the message."
She looked up. "But now you know the truth."
"I do."
She handed it back slowly. Then really looked at him. And for the first time since he returned, she saw pieces of the boy she used to know beneath everything else.
Only pieces. Too much pain between them. Too much damage. Too many years believing lies.
"I'm not ready to forgive you."
He nodded once. "I know."
She held his gaze longer.
"But I'm not going to hate you forever either."
Something in his chest loosened. Not forgiveness. Not peace. But more than he deserved. More than he expected.
The bell rang, loud enough to break the moment. Voices spilled into the courtyard, students moving between classes.
Jade stepped back first. "We should go."
Blake nodded.
They walked toward the building together. Not close enough to touch. Not far enough to feel like strangers. Anger wasn't gone. Hurt wasn't gone either. But the truth was finally between them.
And maybe—just maybe—that was where healing started.