The meeting spot was a small, quiet area in one of the campus courtyards, shaded by a few large trees. As I approached, I noticed something was off—voices echoed through the stillness, one of them sounding tense and familiar.
When I got closer, I saw Liam, one of the group members, standing a few feet away from Aiden, who looked visibly frustrated. They were arguing, voices low but heated.
"What's going on?" I asked, stepping into the circle of the group, feeling the weight of everyone's eyes shift to me.
Tasha, another member of the group, leaned over and whispered, "Well, Liam mentioned earlier that he heard from someone that we were at risk of failing this project. He brought it up with Aiden, asking to see the USB so we could review everything one more time. But Aiden told him it wasn't necessary, and… well, things got tense."
I glanced between Aiden and Liam, whose face was flushed with irritation. Liam crossed his arms, looking directly at Aiden. "I don't understand why you're being so secretive about this. If we're all supposed to work together, why can't we review the project again?"
Aiden's jaw tightened, his expression unreadable. "Because I've got it under control. You don't need to worry."
Liam scoffed, glancing at the rest of us as if to rally support. "Got it under control? Really? Because that's not what it sounds like. If everything's fine, just show us the USB. What's the harm in that?"
Aiden's gaze flickered over to me for a brief second before he answered, his tone cool. "I said it's not necessary, Liam. Let's not make this a bigger issue than it needs to be."
Liam threw up his hands. "This is ridiculous. We're all in this together, and yet you're acting like it's your personal project."
I took a step back, trying to keep a neutral expression as Liam and Aiden's argument escalated.
"Overreacting?" Liam echoed, his tone sharp. "We're putting our grades and reputations on the line. If you're so confident, just show us the USB, and we'll leave it alone."
Aiden's shoulders stiffened, and he looked away. "Like I said, it's unnecessary."
An uneasy silence settled over the group. I could feel doubt simmering among the others, their glances flicking between Aiden and Liam. Tasha cleared her throat, attempting to ease the tension. "Maybe we could all just take a breath? We're all tired, and this project has everyone on edge."
Liam shook his head, unconvinced. "Fine. But if we fail because of this… don't say I didn't warn you."
I watched Aiden's face as he clenched his fists, his expression unreadable.
As the rest of the group dispersed, the tension lingering in the air, I took a hesitant step toward Aiden. "I'm really sorry," I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper. "You wouldn't have had to defend me if it wasn't for… you know, the USB situation. It's my fault everyone's so upset."
Aiden glanced at me, a soft expression crossing his face. "Hey, don't worry about it," he replied, his tone calm but thoughtful. "Honestly, that wasn't even what bothered me the most."
I looked at him, confused. "Then what was it?"
He sighed, crossing his arms as he looked off in the direction the others had gone. "What I'm more interested in is why Liam suddenly got so worked up about the USB. We cleared everything up yesterday. The project was done—or at least close enough that there shouldn't be any need to review it again." He paused, his brow furrowing in thought. "And who exactly told Liam we'd fail? Someone sent him that message, stirring up doubts."
I felt a chill run down my spine. "You think someone from the hangout last night might be involved?"
Aiden nodded slowly, his gaze serious. "It's possible. Think about it—this didn't come out of nowhere. Someone's playing games, and I want to know who."
Before he could continue, the shrill sound of my phone broke through the silence. I winced, giving Aiden an apologetic look as I pulled it from my pocket. My heart dropped when I saw the caller ID: *Mom.*
"Sorry, I have to take this," I whispered to Aiden before pressing the phone to my ear. "Hello?"
"Raven," my mother's voice was sharp, laced with worry. "It's James… he's in the hospital."
The world around me seemed to tilt, her words echoing in my head. "W-what? What happened?" I stammered my pulse racing.
After hurriedly telling Aiden that I needed to go, I bolted towards the nearest bus stop, my mind racing faster than my feet. I didn't wait for another second once the bus arrived, practically throwing myself into an empty seat. I clutched my phone tightly, replaying my mom's voice over and over in my head—James was in the hospital. My little brother.
The two-hour journey stretched on, every second agonizing. Finally, the bus reached the hospital, and I stumbled out, my breath coming in heavy gasps. I burst through the entrance and found the reception desk, clutching the edge to steady myself.
"Excuse me, I'm here for James Dawson," I panted out, barely managing to catch my breath.
The receptionist gave me a brief once-over, her expression unreadable. "And your relation to the patient?"
"I'm his sister," I replied, my voice wavering. "Please, I just need to see him."
She raised an eyebrow and asked, "Full name?"
"Raven Foster."
The receptionist's gaze lingered on me, a hint of confusion flashing across her face. "Different last names, I see," she remarked, her tone almost questioning.
I gritted my teeth, fighting the urge to snap. "Yes. Please, just call up to his room."
She nodded slowly and picked up the phone, murmuring quietly to whoever was on the other end. After a moment, she motioned for me to sign a form. As I scribbled my name, I asked, "Could you tell me his room number?"
"Room 211," she replied. "Head down the hall and take the second right."
I didn't wait for further instructions. Darting down the corridor, I asked a passing nurse to confirm directions and practically flew toward Room 211. My heart pounded harder with each step, dread coiling tighter around my chest.
When I turned the corner, I saw them—my mother and Lily sitting outside the room, my mother looking oddly composed while Lily sat, small and quiet, beside her.
I rushed over. "Mom—what happened? What's going on?" My voice was shaky, but I needed answers.
Mom looked up at me, her face calm, too calm. "It was an accident, Raven. He and Lily were… they were having a little argument, and he fell down the stairs."
My stomach twisted, anger bubbling up. "What do you mean, he fell? Are you implying that Lily pushed him?"
Mom's eyes flashed with irritation. "Don't twist my words, Raven. I said he fell. They were just bickering like kids do."
I clenched my fists, barely containing my frustration. "And where were you? Or… where was *he*?"
Her expression hardened, an edge slipping into her voice. "Your stepfather wasn't around, and I was busy in the kitchen. But all this is unnecessary, Raven. They're kids. They fight. It happens.
"Busy in the kitchen…" I muttered, my eyes narrowing. I knew her well enough to know that "busy" likely meant something else entirely. But I swallowed my anger, my gaze shifting to Lily. That's when I noticed the bruises on her little arms. Bruises that no child should have.
My pulse spiked. "What's this?" I demanded, my voice low but deadly. "Why does she have bruises?"
Mom's face tightened, a faint flush creeping over her cheeks. "Raven, we're in a hospital. Keep your voice down. And no, I would *never* lay a hand on her. It's probably just from their fight. You know how boys can be—James is stronger, after all."
I shook my head, my chest tightening as I looked at my mother, anger, and disbelief swirling within me. "Margaret Dawson."
Her eyes blazed, and she sat up straighter, a scowl forming. "How dare you address me like that?"
"How dare *I*?" I shot back, my voice a harsh whisper, barely keeping myself from yelling. "You know damn well why, and I'm not going to pretend otherwise. Now answer me. Where is *he*? Where is your husband?"
Her face hardened, and she glanced away, lips pursed. "Raven, enough. This isn't about him."
"Isn't it?" I pressed, my voice shaking with rage. "You expect me to believe you were just… in the kitchen? While Lily was getting bruised up and James was falling down the stairs? And where is he now, huh?"
Mom's gaze flicked back to me, her anger tempered by a trace of uncertainty. "Raven, this is neither the time nor the place. I'm doing the best I can."
"No," I hissed, voice quivering. "You're not. And if you think I'm going to let this slide, you're sorely mistaken. You might end up losing two more people from your life if you keep pretending nothing's wrong."
My mother's face tightened as she looked at me, her gaze sharp and unyielding. "Raven, whatever wild thoughts you're letting fester in your head… they're wrong. The bruises on Lily's arms are from her and James' little fights. That's all. It got out of hand this one time, but nothing more."
I clenched my fists, my voice barely under control. "*Little fights?*" I repeated, my voice trembling with anger. "Margaret, it's only been a few months since you forced me to leave after I told you what he did! You defended him then, and now James is in the hospital, and you're calling this a little fight? You don't know anything about your kids, and you don't care to know! James wouldn't hurt a fly, and Lily adores her big brother. They never fought like this when I was there. Why are you covering for him?"
She straightened, her voice icy and dismissive. "Firstly, I didn't *demand* anything. I kicked you out of my house because you kept throwing yourself at my man. And I do know my children. After you left, they had their little squabbles. This was just an accident. Leave it alone, and stop dragging their father into this. He's nothing like that *bastard* I had you with."
Her words hit me like a slap, even before her hand did. Tears filled my eyes as I bit back the surge of pain and betrayal. "How dare you?" I choked out. "Dad loved you! Even before his death, he cared about you. *You* were the one who cheated on him while he was lying on his deathbed. I *saw* you with that maniac the day Dad died. You didn't even mourn him! And now you're protecting him? Is it because of the money he's giving you?"
My mother's face twisted in fury, but I couldn't stop the words. "Is he screwing you so well that you're blind to everything else?" I spat, my voice breaking.
Before I could react, her hand flew across my face, stinging my cheek and snapping my head to the side. I staggered back, my hand pressed against the burning skin, a sharp, bitter taste in my mouth from the slap.
At that moment, a nurse appeared, frowning sternly at us. "Excuse me, this is a hospital," she said sharply. "If you two can't keep it down, you'll have to leave."
The nurse's disapproving glare lingered as she crossed her arms. I managed to force out, "I'm sorry. We'll keep it down," before turning back to my mother, heart pounding, anger still simmering just beneath the surface.
I leaned in closer, my voice low but brimming with fury. "You were a horrible person to both me and Dad. But I won't let you and that man you call your husband hurt James and Lily. I don't care what I have to do—I'll get them away from both of you."
Her eyes narrowed, a smirk twisting her lips. "Think whatever you want. You're just an ungrateful bastard who knows nothing. Your father—may his soul rest in peace—didn't love either of us. And you're just like him."
I felt a sharp pang, but I wasn't about to let her words break me. I clenched my fists, keeping my voice steady, each word like a dagger. "Think whatever you like. I've never been able to change your mind, and I'm not trying now. But for your own sake, you'd better hope that James's fall and Lily's bruises are really just from 'little squabbles.' Because if they're not…" I took a breath, locking eyes with her. "I won't just be your 'ungrateful daughter.' I'll be your worst nightmare."
Her face twisted with rage. "Are you *threatening* me, Raven?"
I didn't bother to answer. I spun on my heel, feeling her glare on my back as I strode down the hallway. Let her seethe. Let her fume. She could think whatever she wanted, but I knew the truth—and I wasn't going to back down.
I turned down another corridor, finally out of sight, letting out a shaky breath as I pressed my hand against the cold wall, trying to steady myself.