Danger 5

The sound of engines revving echoed faintly in my mind, a constant hum that seemed to follow me even as I sat in the middle of my accounting lecture. The professor’s voice droned on, his pen scribbling equations across the whiteboard as he explained financial ratios with the precision of someone who had done this a thousand times before. Around me, students furiously took notes, their brows furrowed in concentration.

I was supposed to be one of them—focused, present, and ready to tackle the formulas that would appear on our next exam. But my mind was elsewhere, caught between two very different worlds.

The next race was in two days, and I couldn’t stop thinking about it. The circuit was one I’d raced on before, but the stakes had changed. The pot was bigger, and with it, the risks. I’d spent hours studying every turn, visualizing the course in my mind like a map burned into my brain. I knew when to accelerate, when to drift, and when to hold back.

Still, Mika’s words from yesterday lingered. She didn’t know the truth about my life, didn’t know what I was juggling beneath the surface. To her, I was just Sierra—the dependable, hardworking college student with good grades and a knack for staying out of the spotlight. She didn’t see the racer, the fighter, or the weight of what I was fighting for.

“Ms. Carter,” my professor called, snapping me out of my thoughts.

I blinked, realizing he was staring directly at me. The entire class turned to look, their expressions a mix of curiosity and amusement.

“Yes?” I said, straightening in my seat.

“Perhaps you can enlighten us. What’s the importance of the debt-to-equity ratio in assessing a company’s financial health?”

For a moment, my mind scrambled to connect the dots. Then, like muscle memory, the answer came.

“It’s a measure of how a company finances its operations—through debt versus equity,” I said. “A higher ratio indicates more reliance on borrowing, which can be risky, especially during economic downturns.”

The professor nodded, satisfied, and moved on to the next student. The weight of the stares lingered as I sank back into my seat, silently berating myself. This wasn’t like me. I was always prepared, always ahead. But lately, balancing my two lives felt like trying to walk a tightrope over a pit of fire.

When the lecture ended, I slipped out of the classroom, hoping for a quiet moment to collect my thoughts. The campus café was busy, filled with students chatting over coffee and pastries. I found a corner table by the window, the sunlight streaming in as I opened my laptop to catch up on some assignments.

“Sierra!”

I looked up to see a group of classmates approaching, their faces lit with excitement.

“Hey, we were just talking about the campus festival,” one of them said. “We think you’d be perfect to lead the event planning committee.”

I blinked, caught off guard. “Me? I don’t think I’m the right person for that.”

“Are you kidding?” another said. “You’re organized, you’re dependable, and everyone respects you.”

Their words felt like a slap of irony. Organized? Dependable? If only they knew how often I was hanging on by a thread, juggling deadlines and danger in equal measure.

“I really appreciate it,” I said carefully, “but I’ve got a lot on my plate right now. I don’t think I’d be able to give it my full attention.”

They looked disappointed but nodded, respecting my answer. As they walked away, I let out a quiet sigh. I hated letting people down, but the truth was, I couldn’t afford to take on anything more. My energy was already stretched to the breaking point, and the cracks were starting to show.

After finishing my coffee, I made my way to the library. It was my sanctuary on campus, a place where I could focus without distractions. I found my usual spot in the corner, surrounded by shelves of books, and dove into my research project.

But just as I was starting to concentrate, my phone buzzed. I glanced at the screen and saw a message from an unknown number.

**“Carter, meet me tonight. We need to talk about the next race. Same spot as last time. 9 PM sharp.”**

My stomach twisted as I stared at the message. It had to be one of the organizers. They were always careful, always cryptic. No names, no details—just instructions.

I quickly deleted the message, my eyes darting around the library. No one seemed to have noticed, but paranoia clawed at me all the same. My secret life was just that—a secret. If anyone on campus found out, it would all come crashing down.

By the time I left the library, the sun was setting, casting the campus in shades of orange and gold. The air was crisp, and the chatter of students filled the walkways. I kept my head down, pulling my hoodie tighter around me as I headed to my car.

The meeting spot was a deserted parking lot on the edge of town, the kind of place that felt forgotten by the world. As I pulled in, the only sound was the low hum of the engine.

A sleek black car was already there, its windows tinted so dark I couldn’t see inside. The driver’s side window rolled down just enough for a hand to slip out, holding an envelope.

“Your route,” the voice said, low and clipped. “And a warning—cops are cracking down hard. Keep it clean and fast, or you’re done.”

I nodded, taking the envelope without a word. The car sped off, leaving me alone under the flickering streetlight.

As I drove home, the weight of my choices pressed down on me. By day, I was Sierra Carter, the overachieving college student with a spotless reputation. By night, I was someone else entirely—a racer, a risk-taker, someone willing to break the rules for the people I loved.

But how long could I keep living this double life before it all came crashing down?

Back in my apartment, I spread the map of the circuit across the kitchen table, tracing the route with my fingers. My heart raced as I imagined the adrenaline, the speed, and the split-second decisions that would determine the outcome.

I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath to steady myself.

“For you, Liam,” I whispered. “I’ll do whatever it takes.”

This was my world now—a world of secrets and shadows, where every choice carried a cost. And for my brother, I was willing to pay it.