I tried Blossom's number again.
Still nothing.
"Seriously, Blossom? You're dodging me on the one week I actually need you to show up like a functioning older sister?" I muttered, flopping onto my bed in frustration. I held my phone to my chest, staring at the fairy lights above my ceiling.
Tomorrow was the school charity gala. It wasn’t just another cheesy high school event—it was important. Mom had vanished into another art gallery exhibition tour, and it was supposed to be Blossom representing the family. Instead, all I was getting was static silence.
I sighed and swung my legs off the bed. No use stewing over a phone that clearly didn’t want to ring back.
Downstairs, I could hear faint laughter from the kitchen—Mom must’ve left a video call open with one of her agents again. I grabbed my jacket and headed out. The walk to school was brisk, the spring air sharp but energizing.
---
By the time I reached St. Evangeline High, everything was buzzing. Banners were being strung across pillars, the scent of warm bagels filled the front entrance, and the student council was practically tripping over clipboards.
"BLUE!" Maya waved at me with both hands, nearly smacking Killian, the council president, in the face. "Tell me you brought the RSVP list!"
"First of all, good morning to you too," I replied, pulling the neatly organized folder from my backpack. "And yes, unlike you, I’m always prepared."
Killian muttered something about control freaks under his breath, which Maya ignored with practiced grace.
We passed the quad, where a few kids were already setting up tables for the art booth and the community raffle. And there he was—Isaac.
Leaning against a tree, earbuds in, sketchpad in hand. Just... vibing. His soft brown hair curled perfectly under the beanie I gave him, and the lazy smile he flashed when he saw me made the breath catch in my throat.
I slid onto the bench beside him.
"Good morning, sunshine," he said, pulling out one earbud.
"Hey, Picasso," I teased, nodding at his sketchpad. "Drawing me again?"
He turned the pad to show me. It was a soft graphite sketch—me, caught mid-laugh, with messy curls and all.
"You caught my gremlin side this time," I noted.
"Your best side," he said, leaning in to kiss my cheek. My shoulders relaxed without me even realizing they’d been tight.
"Blossom's MIA," I said quietly.
He frowned. "No call back?"
I shook my head. "It’s weird, even for her."
Isaac took my hand. "You need me to come with you tomorrow? In case she bails?"
"Maybe. You’d look great in a blazer."
"I’ll wear the one you like. The navy with the silver pin."
I smiled, grateful, before the moment was interrupted by the shrill ping of my locker notification on my school app. I headed over to check and found an envelope stuck between the vents.
No name. No return address.
I opened it slowly. Inside: one line, printed in black.
"Your big sis's gotten her self in real trouble."
My throat tightened.
Who would send something like this?
I turned sharply, scanning the hallway—but it was full of movement. Laughing students, bustling volunteers, nothing suspicious.
I shoved the note into my pocket and headed to class, but a chill settled over my shoulders. Something wasn’t right.
And Blossom’s silence wasn’t just frustrating anymore.
It was starting to feel dangerous.
----
The gym looked like something out of a Pinterest fever dream—strands of fairy lights danced overhead, casting a soft glow across the decorated tables and photo booth. Students in semi-formal attire flitted between snack tables and the dance floor like bees with better hair.
I stood at the check-in table, clipboard in hand, trying to look like someone who had it together. Beside me, Maya was going full command-center mode.
"We’re missing two table runners, three cupcakes, and Killian’s patience," she snapped.
"We’ll live," I muttered. My mind was elsewhere. Blossom still hadn’t called. And that note still burned a hole in my jacket pocket.
"You okay?" Isaac asked gently, appearing at my side with two cups of sparkling cider.
I forced a smile. "Yeah. Just a lot going on. You know how I get."
"I know. That’s why I brought you this," he said, offering me one of the cups.
I took it, brushing his fingers with mine. "Thanks."
"We can leave early if you want. I know this was supposed to be your big sister night, and—"
"No," I interrupted. "If Blossom doesn’t show, that’s on her. But I’m not going to spend my night waiting."
"Atta girl," Maya chimed in, setting down a tray of desserts with a dramatic flourish. "You’re radiant, Blue. Own it."
The gala rolled on. Speeches were made, awards handed out. The jazz band Isaac recommended absolutely killed it. I got swept into dances, interviews, and endless photo ops.
But then the lights dimmed for the special performance—a surprise act by a student nobody knew much about.
And I spotted him.
Tall. Sharp suit. Standing at the far end of the gym near the emergency exit. Not a student. Not a teacher. Just… there. Watching.
Our eyes locked for a brief second.
I blinked.
He was gone.
Isaac noticed my distraction. "What is it?"
"Probably nothing," I lied. "Just thought I saw someone."
But my gut disagreed.
After the event ended, I stayed behind with Maya and a few others to clean up. As I tossed a bundle of tablecloths into a basket, my phone buzzed.
Blocked Number: Your sister isn't safe. Watch your step.
My blood turned to ice.
"Blue?" Isaac appeared behind me again, concern written across his face.
I turned my screen to show him.
He read it. Paused. Then said, very calmly, "We need to talk. But not here."
I nodded slowly, adrenaline mixing with confusion.
Something was unraveling.
------
We didn’t speak again until we were outside, the cool night air slipping through the trees like whispered secrets.
Isaac opened the car door for me, and we sat inside his old sedan, the silence thick and sticky.
"Okay," I said finally, facing him. "Spill. What’s going on?"
He rubbed his hands together, a nervous habit I’d only seen once before—last summer, when he thought his scholarship might fall through.
"The note... the text... it’s not random. It’s connected to something that’s been following me for a while now."
My stomach dropped. "Isaac, what are you talking about?"
He looked me in the eye. "My dad used to work for a company called Valkyr Arms. Weapons manufacturing. Private deals, international stuff. High-level. He left years ago, but recently, he started getting threats. People looking for files. Names."
Valkyr Arms. I’d heard of it. Blossom had mentioned it once, in passing. I thought it was just another shady-sounding company.
"You think whoever’s after your dad is now watching you?"
"I know they are. And that note—your sister is in to deep? That’s part of it. She’s mixed up in something real, Blue. Real and dangerous."
My hands trembled slightly. "Then we have to tell someone. We have to tell Blossom."
He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a flash drive. "This is what they’re after. It’s encrypted. My dad trusted me with it. He said if anything ever happened to him, I’d know who to bring it to."
"Who?"
Isaac hesitated. "A man named Vincent Marino."
My pulse skipped. That name. I’d heard Blossom say it—too carefully.
"That’s… Blossom’s boss. Or—something like that."
Isaac looked startled. "Then we need to get this to her. Fast. Before they realize I’ve got it."
Suddenly, everything clicked. The messages. The man at the gala. Blossom’s silence.
"We’re in way over our heads, aren’t we?" I whispered.
"Yeah," Isaac said. "But we’ve got each other. And right now, that’s everything."
I held the flash drive in my hand, heart pounding like it already knew the storm we were about to step into.