Chapter 150: Unanswered Questions

Harper’s POV

I didn’t buy a single thing extra.

The moment I turned away from Ethan and lost myself in the bustling flow of the mall, I completely forgot the original excitement that had brought me there in the first place. My chest felt hollow, a strange, suffocating numbness settling into my bones.

I just wanted to get home. Everything I just heard now made my heard spin

I moved through the remaining stores on sheer autopilot, grabbing the essentials without comparing prices or browsing the aisles like I normally would. A few muted lipstick shades for Mom. Nail polish. Hydrating hair serum. I found a soft, slate-gray backdrop at a specialty shop, paid for it all hastily, and shoved the heavy shopping bags onto my forearm.

Normally, I would have spent an hour admiring the displays, lost in the joy of creating something new.

Not today.

My mind was trapped in a relentless, suffocating loop, replaying Ethan’s desperate words over and over again.

I got paid to leak those things.

Who? And why?

I stepped out of the glass sliding doors into the bright morning heat, ordering an Uber with shaking fingers. Standing on the sidewalk waiting, I tried to force the thoughts out of my head, but it was impossible. I had spent months trying so hard to heal, to move forward, to build a future... only to realize there were still dark, dangerous threads hanging unresolved behind me.

The silver sedan pulled up to the curb. I opened the door and sank into the back seat.

"Where to?" the driver asked, glancing at me in the rearview mirror.

I gave him my address and leaned my temple against the cool glass of the window. For the entire twenty-minute ride, I watched the city blur past, lost in a sea of rising anxiety.

I didn’t know what terrified me more: the fact that Ethan had taken money to systematically ruin my reputation, or the chilling realization that I had absolutely no idea who held that kind of malice toward me.

When I finally reached my house, I rushed upstairs, dumping the heavy shopping bags on the floor beside my desk. I had barely unzipped my purse to pull out the receipt when my phone vibrated in my palm.

I looked at the screen, and the heavy cloud in my chest instantly cracked open.

Justin.

A soft, genuine smile touched my lips. I slid the bar to answer. "Hey, babe."

"Hey, baby." His voice came through the speaker deep, warm, and instantly grounding. Just hearing him breathe on the other end made the tension in my shoulders begin to melt.

"What are you doing?" I asked softly.

"Just got back to my dorm room. I have a tiny break before our evening film session, so I needed to hear your voice."

My heart swelled. "That’s sweet."

"I know," he replied, a smug little grin evident in his tone.

I laughed softly, walking over to my bed. "How are you holding up?"

"Tired. Brutally tired, but good."

"How’s camp going?"

"It’s intense, Harper. They’re really putting us through the wringer. We had two hours of fitness testing, on-ice drills, and then endless tactical meetings. I swear these coaches have a meeting scheduled for how we take off our skates."

"That sounds exhausting."

"It is."

"But you’re loving it?"

"Yeah," he admitted, a quiet, fiery excitement breaking through his fatigue. "Yeah, I really am."

Hearing the passion in his voice made me smile. "That’s good, Justin."

"Did you eat lunch?" he asked suddenly.

I giggled. "Seriously? You’re checking up on me?"

"Yes, seriously. Answer the question."

"I haven’t eaten yet. What about you?"

"Chicken, brown rice, and steamed vegetables. And before you start lecturing me, I ate every single bite."

"Good boy," I murmured, a fond warmth spreading through me. "I’m proud of you."

"Thank you, Mom."

"Don’t start!"

He chuckled, the rich sound vibrating through the receiver. We talked for a few more minutes about his day he described the cutthroat level of talent on the ice, how fast the game moved, and how Mason had already managed to pick a fight with one of the veteran draft picks during a scrimmage drill.

I laughed along, picturing Mason’s chaotic energy. But as the laughter died down, a quiet silence fell between us.

"Harper?" Justin’s tone suddenly shifted, dropping into something sharp and observant.

"Yeah?"

"Are you okay?"

I lowered my eyes, my thumb tracing the seam of my pillowcase. "I’m fine."

"No, you’re not."

I frowned. "Justin, I’m literally sitting here talking to you."

"I know you are."

"So?"

"So you sound different," he insisted quietly. "You’re trying way too hard to sound happy."

I swallowed hard, falling silent.

"Talk to me, baby," he coaxed softly.

"Nothing is wrong..."

"Harper."

I let out a heavy sigh. He knew me too well. It was impossible to hide behind a mask when he was listening to the breath between my words.

"Okay," I breathed. "I miss you."

"I miss you too. But that’s not what’s making your voice tremble."

I stared down at my lap, a faint, sad smile touching my lips. "How do you always do that?"

"Because I’ve spent months learning every single cadence of your voice. I know when you’re actually fine and when you’re hiding something. Now tell me."

I took a deep breath and confessed everything. I told him about going to the mall, running into Ethan, trying to avoid him, and the desperate apology Ethan had cornered me into hearing.

The moment I mentioned Ethan’s name, the relaxed air on Justin’s end vanished completely.

"He approached you?" Justin’s voice turned icy, a terrifying edge cutting through the line.

"Yes, but "

"Did he touch you? Did he hurt you?"

"No, Justin, no!"

"Did he say something to threaten you?"

"No! He didn’t threaten me, I promise."

I heard him exhale a long, harsh breath through his teeth, trying to master his sudden surge of protective anger. "Okay. Okay. I’m sorry. Keep going."