My Childhood Friend Pretended to Love Me, Not Knowing I Could Hear His Thoughts Chapter 06

My Childhood Friend Pretended to Love Me, Not Knowing I Could Hear His Thoughts Chapter 06

When the proctor called time on the last exam, I set down my pencil and let out a long, slow breath.

The final problem had solved cleanly. Better than any practice test I had taken in my past life.

I walked out of the building into the early summer sun. The parking lot was still packed with parents and reporters. I pushed through the crowd, avoiding curious eyes.

My phone buzzed nonstop. Texts from my dad. From my school principal. From numbers I didn’t recognize.

The latest message was from my principal: [Elena, come to the school when you’re done. The district superintendent and the board want to see you.]

I texted back: [On my way,] and got into a cab.

The driver glanced at me in the rearview mirror a few times. Finally, at a red light, he said, “Hey, aren’t you that girl from this morning? The one who reported another student?”

I looked up.

“Don’t get me wrong,” he said quickly. “My daughter was testing at that same school. She told me the whole thing. You did the right thing. Trash like that needs to be locked up.”

“Thanks,” I said.

“For real, kid. That took guts.” He shook his head.

“My daughter said everyone was filming it. It’s all over the internet. I heard his family has connections, tried to bury the story. Not happening now.”

I looked out the window. The city scrolled past.

In my past life, at this exact moment, I had been in the hospital, unconscious from crying, while Jacob played the caring friend by my bedside.

When I got to the school, the principal was waiting for me by the front door. His expression was complicated. “Come with me, Elena. They’re waiting.”

The conference room had five people inside. The principal, the vice principal, a woman from the district superintendent’s office, and a plainclothes detective.

They all looked at me when I walked in.

“Have a seat,” the principal said.

He pushed up his glasses and nodded toward the woman. “This is Director Thompson from the State Education Board. And this is Detective Miller from Millbrook PD.”

“They need to ask you some questions about what happened this morning, and about the anonymous complaint regarding your early admission.”

I sat down calmly. “Go ahead.”

Director Thompson opened a folder. “First, about your early admission.”

“A week ago, we received an anonymous letter claiming your National Math Award certificate was fake. The letter provided what it called ‘original score reports’ to support this.”

She paused. “But yesterday, we received an email from you directly, with certified copies of the original results from the competition board, photos from the awards ceremony, and a statement from your advisor, Professor Vasquez.”

“After investigation, we have determined the letter was fraudulent. Your early admission is fully legitimate.”

I nodded. “Yes. After I discovered that someone had broken into Professor Vasquez’s office and tampered with my records, I sent the real documents to the board as a precaution.”

“How did you find out?” Detective Miller’s eyes were sharp.

“I overheard a conversation between Jacob and Skylar,” I lied. “They mentioned the stolen documents. So I kept copies of everything.”

I couldn’t exactly tell them I could read minds.

Detective Miller made a note. “Jacob Harrison has already admitted to shredding your admission ticket, though he claims it was ‘to keep it safe for you.’ A pretty weak excuse.”

The principal sighed heavily. “Jacob always seemed like such a good kid. I don’t understand…”

“It was Skylar,” I said flatly. “Jacob is in love with her. She hates me. They planned this together.”

The room went quiet.

Director Thompson closed her folder. “Elena, your complaint has been filed. Jacob Harrison is currently in custody, charged with criminal mischief and tampering with official documents.”

“As for the anonymous letter, our investigation traced the IP address to Skylar Price’s home. The police are actively investigating.”

I stood up and nodded to them. “Thank you. All of you.”

“Don’t thank us yet.” Detective Miller gestured for me to sit back down.

His expression grew more serious. “During our investigation, we found something else. Something about your mother’s death, three years ago.”

My heart jumped.

“Her death was originally ruled an accident. But based on the evidence you provided this morning… we were able to recover video from Skylar’s old phone.”

Detective Miller pulled out a tablet. He tapped the screen. A grainy video began to play.

My mother was on the floor, her body shaking. Her hand reached toward the table.

Skylar’s voice, laughing, came through the recording. “Come on, stop fighting it. Just let my mom have her place.”

Then Cynthia’s voice, cold as ice. “I switched her medication. She has maybe ten minutes. Don’t worry. The autopsy won’t find anything. It’ll look like a heart attack.”

The video stopped.

I gripped the arms of my chair, my nails pressing deep into the fabric.

Three years. Every time I pictured that night, it was like a knife twisting in my chest.

“Where did you get this video?” Detective Miller’s voice pulled me back.

“From Skylar’s old phone,” I said. My voice cracked. “When she upgraded, she left the old one in storage. I found it last week. I paid a data recovery company to restore the deleted files.”

This was the truth. The first thing I did after waking up in this timeline was go through every box in my dad’s storage unit.

Detective Miller nodded. “We brought Cynthia and Skylar in for questioning this morning. While searching Skylar’s current phone, we found her messages with Jacob.”

“She told him, ‘If my mom hadn’t acted so fast, that old woman would still be alive today.'”

I closed my eyes. I took a breath.

Three years. Finally.

“So can you reopen the case?” I asked when I opened my eyes again.

“Yes.” Detective Miller didn’t hesitate. “We are refiling as first degree murder.”

“The statute of limitations is twenty years. Cynthia and Skylar Price are in custody. Jacob Harrison will also be charged as an accessory.”

“Elena, thank you for bringing us this evidence.”

The principal stood up and put a hand on my shoulder. “Elena, go home and rest.”

“Your early admission is secure. Your future is waiting. The school will support you however you need, including counseling.”

“I’m fine,” I said. “I’ve never been better.”

When I walked out of the school, the sun was just starting to set. Gold light flooded the hallway.

My phone buzzed again. Richard.

I declined the call and blocked the number.

A second later, a text came from a different number.

[Elena, it’s your dad. Please pick up. Let’s talk. Skylar and her mother were just taken by the police. There has to be a misunderstanding. I’ll figure it out.]

I stopped walking. I typed back, one word at a time.

[There’s no misunderstanding. When my mother died, where were you? To you, she and I stopped being family a long time ago. Congratulations. Now we’re strangers.]

I blocked that number too.

Then I opened my contacts. I found the number I had saved years ago but never called. The director of the County Heart Foundation.

I pressed call. “Hello, my name is Elena Martinez.”

“I’d like to make a donation to establish a charitable trust in my mother’s name. Diane Martinez. I’d like to call it The Diane Martinez Heart Fund.”

I ended the call and walked out the front door.

My phone screen lit up. The class chat was exploding.

[Omg I just saw the video from the testing center. Jacob is a monster.]

[Skylar is so fake. She acted so innocent.]

[Elena, are you okay? Do you need anything?]

I typed back: [I’m fine. Thanks for caring. The exam is over. Time to move forward.]

I sent the message and left the group chat.

Starting today, Elena Martinez has a new life.