Strings and Schemes

Chapter 36

I exhale through my nose, my hands balling into fists.

"She told me she'd see me in a day or two," I murmur, almost to myself.

Louis scoffs, shaking his head. "Then someone fucking lied to her."

The weight of those words settles over us.

Niall, uncharacteristically quiet, swallows. "So what do we do?"

Louis looks at me. For the first time, maybe ever, he was asking me for help.

Raina's apartment was quiet.

Too quiet.

The second we step  inside, the air felt different. It isn't the silence of an empty space—it's something heavier, something that makes the hair on my arms stand on end.

Louis is the last one through the door, locking it behind us before exhaling sharply. "Alright," he mutters, running a hand through his hair. "Let's find out what the hell is going on."

Liam folds his arms, scanning the room. "If Raina suspected something was off, she might've left a clue without realizing it."

Harry flops onto the couch like we weren't in the middle of a fucking crisis. "So what, we just ransack the place?"

"No," Liam says. "We search. Carefully."

"Same thing," Louis mutters.

Niall, who has been uncharacteristically quiet, cracks his knuckles and rubs  his hands together. "Alright, lads. Time to channel our inner Sherlock Holmes."

Harry smirks. "Oh, so now you're taking this seriously?"

"I was letting you lot panic first." Niall shrugs, then rolls up the sleeves of his jumper like he was about to perform some sort of forensic analysis.

Louis arches a brow. "What's with the sudden enthusiasm?"

"Because," Niall says, already scanning the bookshelves, "Raina's smart as hell. If she knew something was wrong, she left something behind."

I don't argue.

We spread out, moving through the flat, careful not to disturb too much.

Liam goes to her desk, rifling through documents. Louis checks the bedroom, his movements sharp, purposeful. Harry examines the windows and doors, looking for anything suspicious.

I go to the kitchen.

Everything is clean, like she hadn't had time to make a mess. The sink is empty. Her mug is on the counter, exactly where she'd left it that morning when she made me tea.

My fingers brushes against the handle.

She had been here. Hours ago. Laughing. Kissing me.

Telling me she'd be back in a day or two.

I swallow hard.

I was about to turn away when Niall's voice cut through the apartment.

"Got something."

We all turn toward him.

Niall is standing by the fridge, his brows furrowed, staring at a small note stuck beneath a magnet.

I movedbefore anyone else, crossing the room in a few strides.

It wasn't anything out of the ordinary. Just a simple note written in Raina's neat handwriting.

 Zayn - 

I'll see you soon. Don't burn my flat down while I'm gone. 

Jaan. 

That's it.

Why the fuck was she leaving a note? I left her place around the same time as her. How would she know to leave a note? Was she expecting to be taken for training, or something else?

At first glance, it was normal. Almost sweet.

But then— I saw the doodle in the corner.

A sketch of a rose, its petals slightly jagged, a vine curling around it. A symbol she never used in her art.

My stomach turned. No, this isn't an 'I expect to be at training note', this is a 'somethings up and I can't tell you out loud' note.

Louis looks over my shoulder. "That's not her usual style."

I nod stiffly. "No."

Niall's voice is quieter now. "You think she was trying to tell us something?"

I run my fingers over the ink, my throat tight.

"It's possible."

Raina didn't draw roses. Not unless she had a reason Her sketches were clean, fluid, intentional—she never scribbled. She never doodled. Except once.

I remembered it like a goddamn snapshot. Months ago, back when we were tangled together on the couch, sketchbook in her lap, my arm draped over her waist. She had been absentmindedly drawing—a rose with curling vines—as we talked.

"What's with the flowers?" I had asked.

She had smirked. "It's not just a rose."

I raised a brow. "Oh?"

She tilted the page toward me. "This? This is a rose in a glass box. It means it's trapped. Looks pretty, but it can't go anywhere."

I had chuckled at the time, brushing my lips against her jaw. "Always making shit symbolic, aren't you?"

She had just smiled, kissing me back.

And now?

Now, the exact same trapped rose sat on the corner of this note. And it sure as hell wasn't an accident.

"She knew," I mutter, gripping the paper tighter.

Liam's expression darkens. "Knew what?"

I turn toward him. "That something wasn't right."

Harry stands, locked in place, rubbing his jaw. "She wouldn't have left that unless she wanted us to see it."

Louis grabs the magnet off the fridge, tossing it onto the counter. "So this isn't just training."

"No," I confirm.

Niall exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair. "Then what the hell is it?"

We didn't have the answer. But we knew one thing for sure. Raina didn't leave willingly. We stand there, tension rolling off of us in waves.

Then Louis claps  his hands together. "Right. We need to find out who this Graham prick is."

Liam nods. "I'll check my contacts again. See if I can dig anything up."

Harry cracks his knuckles. "I know a few people who owe me favors."

I inhale deeply, forcing my pulse to slow. "We need to move fast."

Niall pats my shoulder as he passes. "Don't worry, mate," he says, voice firm. "We'll find her."

I clench my jaw, gripping the note one last time before slipping it into my pocket.

Yeah. We will.

Because if Raina had left this as a clue—if she had gone through the effort of telling me she felt trapped—

Then we were already running out of time.