Jack
Nick looked smaller sitting on the edge of the bed.
That was the first thing Jack noticed.
Not broken—just folded in on himself, like someone trying to take up less space in a world that had already decided he was guilty.
Jack sat beside him without asking.
"They're going to clear you," Jack said softly. "I know it."
Nick rubbed his face with both hands. "They looked at me like I was already done."
Jack nodded, slow and understanding. He'd practiced that look in the mirror.
"They always need someone," Jack continued. "Someone close. Someone obvious. You were… convenient."
Nick let out a weak laugh. "That's messed up."
It is, Jack thought.
But it works.
"You did nothing wrong," Jack said, placing a hand on Nick's shoulder. He felt the tension there, tight and buzzing. "And I swear, if anyone keeps pushing this, I'll tell them exactly what happened."
Nick looked up. "You would?"
"Of course," Jack said without hesitation.
Inside, his mind was already moving—adjusting, calculating.
You can't break yet, he thought. You're still useful.
Nick leaned back, eyes glassy. "I don't know what I'd do without you, man."
Jack smiled.
You won't have to find out.
The Clearance
The announcement came quietly.
No apology. No announcement over the intercom.
Just a meeting after school and a few words spoken like they were checking off a list.
"Nick Carter is no longer a person of interest."
That was it.
The knife had no usable prints.
The timeline didn't hold.
The witness had "misremembered."
Cleared.
Nick nodded, said thank you, stood up.
But something felt wrong.
In the hallway, people avoided his eyes—not with suspicion this time, but embarrassment. Like he reminded them of something they didn't want to own.
Jas hugged him too tightly. "See? I told you."
Lily smiled—but it didn't reach her eyes.
Kevin watched from across the hall.
Jack was already there.
"See?" Jack said, clapping Nick on the back. "Told you it'd pass."
Nick smiled, but his stomach twisted.
Because Jack hadn't been relieved.
He'd been calm.
Too calm.
Like this was how it was always supposed to go.
That night, Nick replayed everything.
The knife.
The silence.
The way Jack never once asked what if they don't clear you?
And for the first time since it all began, Nick thought something he didn't want to think.
What if I was never the suspect?
What if I was the distraction?
Across town, Kevin circled a name in his notebook.
Not Nick.
Jack.
And somewhere between comfort and clearance, the truth shifted—
quietly, deliberately—
just out of reach.