CHAPTER ELEVEN. Inside out

Emmet stared at his phone, the screen glowing in the dark of his room. His fingers hovered over the keypad, but his thoughts were elsewhere—racing, questioning, second-guessing everything that had led him here. He hadn't expected his night to take this turn, but the message from an unknown number caught his attention in a way he couldn't ignore.

"Are you really sure you want to work together with her?"

His brow furrowed as his thumb moved to open the message. Below the cryptic text was a video, one that Emmet hesitated to press play on. There was something too familiar about the unease it stirred in his chest, something that felt like a warning he hadn't yet recognized. But curiosity got the better of him. He clicked the play button.

The video began with shaky footage—someone had clearly been hiding, recording through a crack in a door or from behind some objects. Emmet's eyes narrowed when he saw the blurry figure of Karissa, standing with Lucas. Her face was tense, her body language defensive. They were arguing, though Emmet couldn't hear the words, the absence of sound only amplifying the tension between them.

Then, without warning, Karissa moved quickly. Emmet's heart skipped a beat as she threw a punch, landing it squarely on Lucas's eye. The camera caught the impact, the suddenness of it, and Emmet felt a shiver run down his spine.

The video ended abruptly, the screen freezing on Karissa's hard expression.

Emmet sat there for a moment, his fingers clenched around the phone, a bitter taste forming in the back of his throat. He'd known Karissa for a while now, worked with her, seen the layers beneath her calm exterior. But what was he looking at now?

The punch. The coldness. The rage hidden behind her eyes. He'd never seen her like this before.

Could she have... motive?

A thousand thoughts scrambled through his mind. He'd agreed to work with her, to trust her, but this video... it planted a seed of doubt. Had he made a mistake?

Before he could unravel the twisted knot of thoughts, his phone buzzed again. This time, it was a text from Karissa herself.

"We need to talk."

His heart rate spiked. The timing couldn't have been worse. His hand hovered over the screen, unsure of what to do next.

The video didn't lie, but was that the whole story? Was it just a snapshot of a larger picture? He'd never known Karissa to be violent, never known her to act impulsively, especially not in front of others.

But then again... there was a lot about her that didn't add up. He was starting to feel like he was only seeing fragments of the person she truly was.

Emmet let out a breath and leaned back against his chair, staring at the phone in his hand.

Do I confront her? he thought. Do I go to her and ask about this video?

But there was one thing he was sure of. He couldn't ignore it.

He needed to know the truth.

The question was, could he handle it?

Emmet stared at his phone for a moment longer before finally sending the message. "I'm in my dorm." He hit send, his mind still racing from the video, the uncertainty gnawing at him like a persistent itch he couldn't scratch.

Karissa's reply came quickly. "Which door?"

Emmet didn't hesitate. "Room 204."

It felt like the weight of his decision pressed down on him with every passing second. The last few hours had twisted everything he thought he knew about Karissa, but he couldn't just leave it unanswered. He needed to understand.

A soft knock on the door made him jump slightly, and without a second thought, he swung it open. Karissa was standing there, her chest rising and falling in the rhythm of hurried breaths, as though she'd been running to get here.

Without waiting for an invitation, she stepped past him, immediately sitting on the floor. Emmet frowned.

"Karissa, don't sit on the ground. It's cold."

"I'm fine," she replied, brushing him off as she leaned back on her hands, her eyes looking tired but determined.

"The floor is cold," Emmet repeated, stepping closer. "You'll get sick."

"Okay, Mom," she shot back with a playful but weary smile.

Emmet stopped, staring at her for a moment longer than necessary, his thoughts a tangled mess. There was something in her tone, in the way she shrugged off his concern, that unsettled him. Maybe it was just the fact that she was trying so hard to act like everything was normal. But they weren't in a normal situation, were they?

He didn't move as Karissa finally got up and sat on the edge of his bed. She sighed dramatically, clearly trying to brush off whatever tension had been building between them.

"Jesus, that stare was..." she muttered, fidgeting with the hem of her jacket.

Emmet leaned against the desk, watching her closely. His eyes never left her face, and that silence between them stretched, unspoken words hanging in the air. Finally, Karissa broke it, her voice tinged with an edge of frustration.

"I— I think I'm starting to put the pieces together. The photos, the videos... everything. It's like someone's been following us for longer than we realize." Her voice faltered for just a second, but then she went on, quicker this time. "I can't shake the feeling that there's a pattern. The Watcher, these threats... they all tie back to Lucas, but we're missing something. Something—"

Emmet's eyes narrowed slightly, his gaze turning colder. He hadn't interrupted her once, but now his attention was sharper than it had been. It was her words, the conviction in her tone, that made him pause.

Karissa caught the shift in his expression and her voice trailed off. Her eyes, now focused directly on him, carried an uncertainty that hadn't been there before.

"Why... are you looking at me like that?" she asked, a little more defensive than before.

Emmet didn't flinch. His gaze was unwavering as he crossed his arms over his chest. "I don't know. You tell me. You're the profiler."

Karissa's lips parted slightly, the question hanging between them. She looked at him, her brow furrowing in confusion before realization struck.

"Is that how it is? Is this how it's going to be?" she asked, her voice quiet, but now laced with something sharper than just irritation.

Emmet's expression hardened, though there was no malice behind it. "I don't know, Miss Lavoy. Is it?" His tone was quieter than before, and his eyes didn't leave hers.

Karissa stood abruptly from the bed, her hands balling into fists at her sides. "Quit the act and just tell me, Mr. Morris"

The words cut through the air, sharp and demanding. Emmet held his ground, but the intensity in her voice stung him, even if she didn't mean for it to.

Without another word, he stepped closer and pulled his phone from his pocket. He tapped the screen a few times, and then, wordlessly, he handed it to her.

Karissa's face was a mask of confusion as she looked at the phone, but that confusion shifted when her eyes landed on the video. She blinked, her fingers trembling slightly as she pressed play.

The video started, and instantly, Karissa's eyes widened in recognition. There she was—arguing with Lucas, her voice no longer audible but the emotions still evident. She saw herself throw the punch, the force of it, the look on her own face that she had no memory of making. The video was old, yet fresh, like a wound that had never healed.

The screen froze at the moment her fist connected with Lucas's eye, and she gasped involuntarily. Her heart raced, and she felt a sinking feeling in her stomach, as if the ground had disappeared beneath her feet.

"What the hell is this?" she whispered, barely able to form the words.

Emmet's eyes never left her face, studying her every reaction as she took it in.

"Tell me, Karissa," he murmured. "What am I supposed to think when I see this?"

For a moment, Karissa didn't answer. She only stared at the screen, her chest rising and falling with each heavy breath. The quiet tension between them was suffocating. The truth, whatever it was, was unraveling faster than either of them could catch.

Finally, Karissa looked up at him, her expression tight, vulnerable in a way he hadn't seen before.

Karissa's whole demeanor changed in an instant. The fiery defiance that had so often been her shield crumbled as she dropped to the floor, curling into herself as if the world had become too heavy to bear. Her knees were pulled tightly to her chest, and she hugged them like they were the only thing holding her together.

"I fucking hate this," she whispered, her voice hollow, cracking under the weight of words she'd never thought she'd have to say.

Emmet froze, his heart dropping into his stomach. He had never seen her like this. She had always been sharp, untouchable, the girl who laughed in the face of adversity, the girl who never let anyone see her weakness. But now, this broken version of Karissa in front of him was something he couldn't have prepared for.

"I fucking hate how someone can just spin the story so they look innocent," she continued, her voice quiet but filled with so much venom it was almost painful. Her eyes were glued to the floor, avoiding his gaze like she was afraid he'd see too much.

"Karissa..." Emmet began, his voice barely a murmur. His chest felt tight, like there was a weight pressing against him that he couldn't push away.

She didn't look up. Her fingers curled into the sleeves of her jacket, as if trying to pull herself into some semblance of comfort. "You don't get it," she said, her voice rising in frustration, then faltering as the words caught in her throat. "I—" She cut herself off, her breath hitching as if the air had suddenly become too thick to inhale.

A single tear, slow and fragile, trailed down her cheek. It glimmered like the last remnant of her composure, and Emmet's stomach twisted in agony. He didn't know what to do with the quiet devastation that seemed to surround her, suffocating everything else in its wake.

"Lucas drugged me," she whispered, and for a moment, Emmet couldn't process it. His mind couldn't grasp the enormity of the words she had just said.

His breath caught in his throat. "What...?"

Karissa's eyes squeezed shut as if she were trying to block out the memory, her lips trembling as she continued. "At the Halloween party... I was alone for one moment. I don't even remember drinking that much. He came up to me, and I didn't realize it was him at first. He was wearing a mask." She stopped, her voice faltering. "I foolishly followed him to the garden. I didn't even think... I just... followed him."

Her hands were shaking now, wringing together in front of her as if she could physically force the memories to leave her mind. "He pressed something to my face, and then everything... everything went dark. I don't remember what happened after that." Her voice cracked as she choked on the words. "Just fragments. I remember him talking to someone about a drug. Supposedly it kills people with small doses... But he couldn't even do the smallest injection because he was allergic to it. They tried—" She stopped, her body trembling as the flood of recollections broke through again. "They tried to put their hands on me, Emmet. I hate my skin. For just a moment, they left. I don't know how I did it, but I broke free. I ran. I ran until my lungs burned, my legs felt like they were going to collapse underneath me."

Her voice broke again as she paused, swallowing hard, her eyes unfocused, lost somewhere in the past.

"I don't even remember getting outside the building. I just remember running. I never thought I could run like that. I woke up in the school's infirmary, confused, scared, but... alive."

The words felt too heavy, too impossible to bear. Emmet stood there, frozen, as Karissa's story sank into the space between them. There was nothing to say. His heart ached, torn between wanting to comfort her, to protect her, but not knowing how to. Her pain was too deep, too vast.

She stood up slowly, the anger in her posture a stark contrast to the way her shoulders trembled with the weight of what she had just shared. She was trying to put up a wall, but it was made of glass—fragile, shattering with each movement.

"So THAT'S WHY!" she snapped, her voice sharp, filled with raw anger. "You think I'm a heinous bitch? You think I'm immoral and senseless? You think I deserve to be treated like this?" Her fists clenched at her sides, her breath shallow and ragged as if her body were fighting against the storm inside of her. "I hear everything, Emmet. I hear the whispers, the rumors, the things they say about me. But I refuse to let them define me. I will not let them break me."

Her words hit him like a slap, and he could see the fire burning in her eyes. She was a fighter. He knew that. But this? This was a battle she wasn't supposed to fight alone.

Karissa turned abruptly toward the door, her movement jerky, like she was running from the pain she had just laid bare. "So fuck you, Emmet," she spat, the words like venom, but he could see the tears pooling in her eyes.

Before he could react, she reached for the door, but Emmet's hand shot out instinctively. He grabbed her wrist and, without thinking, pulled her toward him. Her body collided with his, and in that moment, it was as if the world had shifted.

Karissa struggled against him, her hands hitting his chest, but the blows were weak. Her sobs wracked through her body, the weight of everything she'd been holding in breaking her apart. Emmet didn't let go. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight, refusing to let her escape, refusing to let her be alone in that moment. Her body trembled against his, her chest heaving as she cried into his shirt.

"Stop," he whispered hoarsely, his voice breaking as he pulled her closer. "Please, stop."

She didn't stop. Her hands balled into fists, pounding against his chest, but Emmet just held her tighter. He wasn't going to let her go—not now, not ever.

"I'm sorry," Karissa whispered, her voice small and broken. "I didn't want anyone to know. I didn't want anyone to see me like this."

EJONA SPEAKS !!

Im crying... im sorry guys im sorryyyyy

I love my babies so much