Chapter 38

Vedant

Now that I have a person willing and able to sleuth for me online, I know exactly who my next target is. I send Alex all the details about her and wait.

Iris. I need to know who she is.

I have spent so much time thinking about her, wondering who she is, and now I know someone who can help me get to the bottom of it. So I send him a file with all of the information I have on her.

Part of me cringes at handing off some of our private conversations, but I know that it is a trade-off that, in the end, will pay off. Once I know who she is.

Alex’s response comes in the form of a large zip file well into the night. But I’ve been waiting up for this message, patient and anxious at once. And when it comes, I tap so quickly my phone stalls out trying to load it.

Within moments, though, files have populated. I sift through them, reading so frantically that my eyes have to reread the text I skimmed to make sure I’m taking it all in.

Because it can’t be true.

My reading starts to slow as the conclusion begins to take shape. I can’t believe it. I refuse to.

And yet the evidence is stacking up. It’s forming into an answer I never thought I would have to confront. One I didn’t even think was possible.

All signs point to her.

Chiara.

I have half a mind to send the evidence back and ask for a review, because surely Alex got it wrong. Out of all of the people in the world, Iris’s IP address links back to Chiara’s. But there has to be a mistake, a justified reason for this. Iris can’t be Chiara.

I sit at my desk long after midnight, the glow of my phone painting everything in cold artificial light. A million possibilities float through my mind. I weigh up whether or not I want to confront her. Should I demand answers?

But what if I’m wrong? What if I’m jumping to conclusions? And yet this evidence is pretty solid…

If Iris really is Chiara, though, then this is an identity she is not prepared to share. Clearly, if it’s true, she is withholding it for some purpose. And given the recent smear campaigns Alice has been deploying against her, I wouldn’t entirely blame her if that was the case.

So I turn my phone off with a tap. Whatever I choose to do, it will not be happening tonight. Especially on the eve of such an important day.

Tomorrow is about the doubles competition. And if we are going to compete successfully, we will need to work together efficiently. We can’t have this drama tear its teeth into us.

I’ll find the truth, eventually. I’ll make her confess if she really has been hiding this from me. But right now, it’s not worth the cost of losing her trust before I even understand what it means, especially before the doubles competition.

Chiara

Something feels… off.

Vedant is quiet this morning. He just gives short, polite answers, his expression unreadable. I can’t help but feel my skin prickle at his sudden strangeness. We had just started getting close, and now it feels like we’ve taken a step back.

While the excitement of the day’s competition stirs the air around us, he remains unwavering and solid. But very, very quiet. It seems strange, but I try to brush it off as nerves. The doubles match is important for both of us, and we have been training so hard for this moment.

I can’t allow my paranoid speculation to wear on us. We have a competition to win, and any suspicions I might have can wait to be addressed afterward.

“Ready?” I ask, forcing a smile as we line up for the first challenge. It’s an obstacle course we have run through what feels like hundreds of times. We’ve gotten to a place where I feel I can run it in my sleep.

“Let’s do this,” he says. His tone is steady, but he keeps his attention trained ahead at the pair currently competing. If there wasn’t already a strange feeling weighing heavily that morning, I might have been able to convince myself that he was sizing up the competition.

He doesn’t even give me a glance as the pair ahead of us finishes. It makes my stomach twist.

And then he’s walking to the starting line, and I am following. He gives me a curt nod as we get into position, his mute signal to me wishing me luck. I return the gesture, but his focus has already turned forward again.

No sooner are we up to the front, muscles coiled in anticipation and hearts pounding, than the shrill noise to start our match blares in the tentative quiet. And all at once, my feet are flying, my arms are pumping, and Vedant is right at my side, matching my strides.

After so many weeks working with him, our cooperation is seamless. I know his moves and he knows mine, anticipating our next movement and covering each other’s weaknesses without a word.

We fly through it using muscle memory. Adrenaline blurs out any phantom, remaining pain my ankle might cause. I can’t feel anything but the moment, and my heart is thundering in my throat.

Every time Vedant moves, I react, and vice versa. The moment before the starting sound might have been tense, but now we are utterly in sync.

The crowd cheers when we hit the final mark, and the adrenaline rush hits me so hard I laugh out loud. Sweat is dripping into my eyes. Beside me Vedant is panting as he catches his breath.

We were the last pair to go, and our eyes are trained on the scoreboard in anticipation. Waiting. Each second feels like an hour as we stand there, recovering.

There are so many things I want to say to him, but none of them feel adequate right now. I don’t want to spoil this moment; it is so precious, these seconds standing between our victory or our loss.

Eventually, the board adjusts. And our names shoot straight to the top.

First place. We won.

I don’t even think. It’s like some deep part of me reacts on instinct. I just turn and throw my arms around Vedant, embracing him in my delight.

He freezes for a heartbeat, tensing all over. But then his arms come around me too, so strong and sure.

I don’t even care that we are both sweaty and breathless. For a moment, everything else falls away. Nothing else matters: the noise, the people, the secrets. It’s just me and him, our bodies pressed against each other and our racing heartbeats pounding as though trying to escape our chests and meet in the middle.

When we finally pull apart, his eyes meet mine. Neither of us speaks. My face burns. His does too.

The moment, is gone as quickly as it has come. Our elation thins like smoke on the wind, drifting off and away from us.

But in that charged silence, I realize that whatever’s been troubling him can wait, because right now, in this fragile, perfect moment, we’re completely and utterly on the same page.