Jace doesn't smile much.
He never really has.
But it's not that he's unfamiliar to me.
It's the opposite.
I've known him long enough to recognize his silence, his pauses, the way he looks at things like he's already calculated how dangerous they are.
But today feels different.
Today, he feels more… alert.
Like something in him is switched on that wasn't there before.
I stand between him and Maya, watching both of them carefully.
"So you guys have been in touch since high school?" I ask, trying to sound casual.
Maya glances at him first before answering.
"Yeah," she says. "But not all the time."
Something about the way she says it makes my stomach tighten slightly.
Not jealousy.
Not curiosity.
Something else I don't have a name for.
I look back at Jace.
He's standing there like he's listening to everything and nothing at the same time. His posture is relaxed, but not careless. Controlled. Like he's always ready to move if something changes.
He looks older like this.
Not in age… in awareness.
His face is sharper than I remember, jawline set, expression unreadable. But it's his eyes that do it.
They don't just look at people.
They assess them.
Scan them.
Like he's checking for something wrong before anyone else even notices.
And when they land on me for a second too long, I feel it again.
That strange discomfort.
Like I'm missing something important.
I clear my throat slightly.
"What exactly are we doing here?" I ask.
Jace doesn't answer immediately.
His attention shifts — not to me, not to Maya — but past us.
Across the campus walkway.
His eyes narrow slightly.
That's when I feel it too.
A shift.
Not loud.
Not obvious.
Just that instinctive feeling that something has changed even though everything looks normal.
"We shouldn't stay out here," he says quietly.
Maya frowns. "Why?"
Jace finally looks at her.
"Because someone's watching us."
My chest tightens instantly.
"What do you mean someone's watching us?" I turn my head, scanning the area quickly.
Students walk past like normal. Phones. Conversations. Laughter. Nothing out of place.
But suddenly, it all feels staged.
Like I'm seeing a version of normal that's too perfect to trust.
"I don't see anyone," I say.
Jace's voice is calm.
"You're not supposed to."
That makes something inside me shift.
Uneasy.
Uncomfortable.
Like my body understands something my mind hasn't caught up to yet.
Maya straightens slightly, her voice lower now. "Are you sure?"
"Yes," he says immediately.
No hesitation.
No second thought.
Just certainty.
And somehow, that makes it worse.
Jace steps forward slightly, nodding toward the path ahead.
"Move."
It's not loud.
It's not aggressive.
But it's final.
We start walking.
Maya goes first, and I follow behind her, while Jace stays slightly to my side — not close enough to crowd me, but close enough that I notice he's always between me and open space.
Protective.
Automatic.
Like it's something he doesn't even think about doing.
I glance at him as we walk.
"Do you always think someone's watching you?" I ask quietly.
"No," he says.
Pause.
"Only when they actually are."
That doesn't make me feel better.
We turn into a quieter section of campus, away from the crowd. The air feels heavier here, like the noise of people was covering something I didn't realize I needed.
Maya slows down.
"So what now?" she asks.
Jace doesn't answer her immediately.
His eyes move again — scanning rooftops, windows, corners I wouldn't even think to look at.
Then he says, "We need somewhere enclosed."
"Why?" I ask.
He finally looks at me properly.
"Because whoever left that note on you already knows where you are."
My stomach drops slightly.
I stop walking.
"How do you know about the note?"
A brief silence.
Maya looks between us.
Jace doesn't answer right away.
When he does, it's quieter.
"I notice things."
That's not an answer.
But something in his tone tells me not to push further right now.
We keep walking until we reach a less crowded building near the edge of campus. Jace opens the door first, checking inside before letting us in.
That alone tells me everything I need to know.
This isn't paranoia.
It's practice.
Inside, the air feels cooler. Quieter. Safer, maybe — but I don't trust that feeling yet.
Maya turns to him.
"Okay," she says. "Talk."
Jace finally faces both of us.
And for the first time since this started, he looks serious enough that even I stop questioning him.
"You didn't just get a random note," he says. "You got attention."
My throat tightens slightly.
"What kind of attention?" I ask.
His eyes flick to mine.
The answer comes after a pause.
"The kind you don't ignore."
Silence settles between us.
Heavy.
Uncomfortable.
Real.
And for the first time since all of this started…
I realize this isn't just something I'm curious about anymore.
It's something I'm already inside.