Outside the hospital room.

Ivan and I stared at Mathew's still form on the bed.


Neither of us spoke.

The blood-soaked scene we'd found—we silently agreed never to speak of it.

Ivan suddenly smiled. "Crystal."




I tore my eyes from Mathew to look at him.


"Remember how we got together?" he asked with a sad smile.

I remembered. Ivan had pursued me relentlessly. My roommates had cheered his persistence, trying to push us together.

At our graduation party, I got drunk and passed out in his arms.

The next day, everyone gave me knowing looks, as if we were suddenly a couple.

I asked Ivan why.

He said I'd kissed him in front of everyone and confessed my feelings.

I believed him. We became a couple.

"You never kissed me that day. Never confessed. I lied to get you... When we were together, you were always thinking of him, weren't you? Don't deny it. We've been intimate—I know you. Maybe you don't even realize it, but he's always been in your heart..."

Ivan smiled bitterly. "We've all gone mad."

Yes, we had.

But none as mad as Mathew.

I looked at Mathew's pale form.

He'd slit his wrists. So much blood. I couldn't wake him.

He was using his life to blackmail me.

And it worked.

I was terrified he'd never wake up.

"I'm sorry, Ivan."