The university library was the one place Jay felt she could truly breathe. It was vast, quiet, and most importantly, it was flooded with bright, fluorescent light. In the light, she could pretend the shadows at home didn't exist.
She was tucked away in a corner cubicle on the third floor, finishing a case brief for her and Keifer. Keifer, of course, was supposed to be there, but he was currently in the gym for basketball practice.
Outside, a tropical storm was finally making landfall. The wind howled against the glass panes, and the sky had turned an ominous, bruised charcoal.
Flash.
A bolt of lightning illuminated the library for a split second. Jay flinched, her heart beginning to drum against her ribs. It's fine, she told herself, clutching her pen. The lights are on. You're safe.
Then, it happened.
Thump.
A heavy sound echoed from the transformer outside, and suddenly, the world vanished.
The library plunged into absolute, suffocating pitch-black.
Jay's breath stopped.
The "Smiling Girl" was gone. In her place was a terrified child.
Every trauma she had suppressed—the sound of her mother's muffled screams, the heavy, rhythmic footsteps of her stepfather in the dark hallway—came rushing back.
"No," she gasped, her voice small and brittle. "No, no, no."
She tried to stand, but her knees buckled. She collapsed onto the floor beneath the desk, pulling her knees to her chest.
The darkness felt like a physical weight, pressing against her lungs, stealing her oxygen. She began to hyperventilate, her small hands clawing at her own arms.
"Mama..." she whispered, a stray tear finally breaking through her mask.
At that same moment, Keifer was jogging up the library stairs.
Practice had been cancelled due to the power outage, and he knew Jay was still upstairs. He had his phone flashlight on, the beam cutting through the gloom.
"Jay? You still here?" he called out.
He reached their usual corner. At first, he thought the area was empty. Then, he heard a faint, rhythmic scratching sound. He shined his light under the desk.
"Jay?"
He saw her. She was curled into a ball, shaking so violently that her teeth were chattering. Her eyes were wide, glazed, and staring at nothing.
"Hey, hey!" Keifer dropped to his knees, moving his light away from her face so as not to blind her. "It's just a power cut, Jay. Relax."
He reached out to touch her shoulder, but she flinched away as if he had burned her.
"Don't! Please, don't hit me!" she cried out.
Keifer froze. Hit her? The words felt like a cold bucket of water over his head. He looked at the girl who was always helping others, always laughing, always perfectly composed. She looked broken.
"Jay, it's me. It's Keifer," he said, his voice unusually soft. "Nobody is going to hit you. It's just the lights. The storm knocked them out."
He stayed there, sitting on the floor a few feet away, keeping his flashlight pointed at the ceiling so the room was dimly lit.
Slowly, her breathing began to level out. The glazed look in her eyes started to clear.
Suddenly, the power surged back. The overhead lights flickered once, twice, and then stayed on.
In an instant, Jay's transformation was terrifying to watch. She scrambled up from the floor, dusted off her jeans, and wiped her eyes so fast Keifer almost missed it. By the time she looked at him, the "Sunshine" was back.
"Oh my gosh, Keifer! You caught me," she said, letting out a high-pitched, fake laugh. "I'm such a baby about the dark. I think I watched too many horror movies last night. Sorry for the drama!"
Keifer stayed on the floor, looking up at her. He didn't laugh. "Jay, you weren't just 'scared.' You were terrified. You said—"
"I was overreacting!" she interrupted, her smile widening until it looked like it hurt. "I'm just a little tired from studying.
Don't tell the team, okay? The 'Golden Boy' shouldn't have a partner who's a scaredy-cat."
She began packing her bag with trembling hands, her movements frantic.
Keifer stood up slowly. He wanted to ask her what she meant by 'don't hit me.' He wanted to ask why her eyes looked so hollow despite the smile. But Jay was already halfway to the door.
"See you tomorrow, Partner!" she called out, waving without looking back.
Keifer stood alone in the bright library. He didn't believe her for a second. The "Sunshine of MSU" wasn't just a nickname—it was a disguise.
And for the first time in his life, Keifer didn't feel like flirting. He felt like fighting whatever it was that made her that afraid.