Chapter 2

Claire's graduation was a perfect day.

Warm May sunshine. The scent of cut grass on the quad.

She practically floated across the stage to get her diploma.

Her speech wasn't just words; it was a promise.

About building a better future, about chasing dreams.

It moved everyone. Professors dabbed their eyes.

Mom squeezed my hand so tight, her knuckles were white.

"That's my girl," she whispered, her voice thick with pride.

Claire found me right after, beaming.

"See, Allie-cat?" she said, ruffling my hair. She always called me Allie-cat. "No curse. Just a bright future."

She was so sure. So happy.

A week later, the police called.

They found Claire in her off-campus apartment.

Hanged.

A note on the table.

It wasn't long.

Just one sentence, printed neatly.

"Allie, never pursue peak glory."

That was it.

Allie. Not Allie-cat.

The handwriting looked like hers. But the name felt wrong.

A stranger's warning.

Mom didn't cry at the funeral.

Not a single tear.

She stood by the grave, a statue carved from ice.

Her face was blank. Empty.

When I tried to hold her hand, she pulled away.

Later, I asked her why Claire would do it.

"She aimed too high, Allison," Mom said, her voice flat. "Some things aren't meant for people like us."

Allison. Not Allie.

It was like Claire's death had frozen something inside her.

Or maybe, something was already frozen, and Claire's death just revealed it.

I couldn't understand Mom's coldness.

This was the same woman who'd stayed up all night, holding my hand, when I had a fever of 104.

The same woman who cried when Claire scraped her knee as a kid.

Now, her firstborn, her pride and joy, was gone.

And Mom just... shut down.

Or shut me out.

Claire's last look in my memory wasn't from graduation day.

It was a fleeting image from the week before, when I'd visited her apartment.

She'd seemed a little distracted, a little tired.

She'd hugged me extra tight when I left.

"Be good, Allie-cat," she'd said. "Always."

That was Claire.

The note was a forgery. I knew it.

Someone killed my sister.

And I decided then, I would become Valedictorian too.

I would retrace her steps.

I would make them notice me.

The killer. Or killers.

I would draw them out.