Vanessa POV
The next morning, Alexis and I met under the fig tree before school even started.
"Okay," I said, arms crossed, "if we're doing this, we need a plan."
Alexis looked more alive than I'd ever seen him—still quiet, still guarded, but alert. Focused. Like a spark had been lit inside him.
"I've been thinking," he said. "Who has access to your stuff? Who would even know where you hide your diary?"
I thought for a moment. "At home… just my mom, and my brothers. But Mom wouldn't care about my diary. And Alex is too busy pretending I don't exist."
"And the other one? Alexis?"
I hesitated. "He's the only one I've caught snooping in my room before. Once. But I didn't think much of it."
"You think he could've written the note?"
My stomach turned. "I don't know. It's possible."
Alexis leaned against the tree. "We should test him."
"What do you mean?"
"Put something fake in your diary. A story. A lie. Something only you and the reader would know. Then see if it gets used against you."
"That's risky."
He shrugged. "So is trusting the wrong person."
He was right. Again.
And it scared me how much I didn't want my brother to be the one behind all this.
That night, I did exactly what Alexis suggested.
I opened my diary and wrote a fake story. A short entry that said:
"Alexis from school asked me to meet him after hours, near the library. He said he wanted to tell me something important… something about my family."
It wasn't just a trap. It was a dare. A whisper into the shadows: I know you're watching.
Then I waited.
Two days passed. Nothing happened. My home life was the usual fog of silence, arguments, and bruised leftovers. Alexis—the brother—was distant, sulking more than usual.
But on the third day, something changed.
During lunch, a girl named Kiera—someone I'd never even spoken to—walked up to me near the lockers.
"Hey, Vanessa, right?" she asked, too sweetly.
"Yeah," I said warily.
"So… you and Alexis. What's going on there?"
I blinked. "What do you mean?"
She twirled a strand of her hair, eyes glinting. "Word is, you're sneaking around after hours. Alone with him. Kinda weird, right?"
My heart dropped into my stomach.
The diary trap. Someone had read it.
But how did Kiera know?
I forced myself to stay calm. "Where'd you hear that?"
"Oh, you know how it is. People talk. You should be careful who you trust."
With that, she walked away, leaving the scent of suspicion behind her.
I clenched my fists. Kiera had no business knowing anything from my diary unless someone told her. Which meant someone in my house—or someone very close to me—was leaking things.
That night, I told Alexis everything.
"We got our answer," he said after I recounted the hallway ambush. "Someone read your diary and passed it on."
I nodded. "But how did Kiera find out so fast?"
"She might not be the source. Just another link in the chain. We need to go higher."
"Higher?"
He gave me a look. "We need to talk to her friend, Rose."
"Why?"
"She's the school gossip queen. If anyone spreads rumors, it's her. We find out who gave her the story, and we work backward."
I stared at him. "You scare me a little, you know."
He smiled. "Good. It means I'm doing something right."
The next morning, we caught Rose just as she stepped out of the library.
Alexis didn't waste time. "Who told you Vanessa was sneaking around after school?"
Rose narrowed her eyes. "Why should I tell you?"
"Because it's a lie," I said. "And I want to know who made it up."
Rose shrugged. "I didn't make it up. I heard it from Kiera. She said she got it from someone close to you."
"Close to me?" I asked. "Like who?"
She smirked. "Ask your little brother."
I felt like the floor dropped from beneath me.
Alexis. My Alexis.
That afternoon, I waited until my mom left for work, and Alex was glued to a game in the living room. Then I went into my bedroom, locked the door, and called my brother in.
He walked in, dragging his feet like always.
"What?" he asked.
"Did you read my diary?"
His eyes darted away. "No."
"Alexis."
"I said no!"
"I set a trap. Wrote a fake story. Now kids at school are talking about it. That story was in my diary. Only one person at home could've read it."
He didn't say anything. His jaw tightened.
"Why?" I whispered. "Why would you do that?"
He looked up at me, suddenly angry. "Because you don't get it! You always act like the victim. Like Mom only hates you. You think you're the only one who's hurting?"
I stared at him. "I never said that."
"You didn't have to. You walk around like you're made of glass. Like everything that happens is worse because it's you."
My throat burned. "So you told lies about me?"
"I didn't lie. I just… passed it on."
"To who? Who else did you tell?"
"I told Alex. And maybe he told someone. I don't know. I just wanted you to stop pretending you're the only one struggling in this house."
I was shaking now. Not from fear—but betrayal.
"You're my brother," I said. "You let me get beaten for your mistake. And now you're trying to destroy the only friendship I've got?"
He looked away. "You were always Mom's problem child. Not me."
It stung more than anything ever had.
I didn't talk to him the rest of the night. Not even when he knocked on my door twice to say something, then walked away.
Instead, I wrote in my diary.
Dear Diary,
It was him. It was always him.
Not the boy at school. The boy I grew up beside.
How do you forgive someone who makes you feel like your pain is your fault?
How do you keep breathing in a house where trust is poison?
The next day at school, Alexis met me at the gate.
"You okay?" he asked.
"No," I said, honestly.
He didn't ask why. Didn't try to make me talk.
Just walked beside me in silence.
And that meant more than any apology ever could.