Chapter 5 Episode One Drops
Chloe
I woke slowly.
Not all at once, not with that jolt of awareness that comes from an alarm or noise, but in pieces—warmth first, then the weight of something solid behind me, then the steady rise and fall of breath against my shoulder.
Daniel.
My lips curved slightly before I even opened my eyes.
His arm was wrapped loosely around my waist, his hand resting low on my stomach like it had settled there sometime during the night and never left. The sheets were still warm, the faint scent of laundry detergent and something distinctly him lingering in the air.
For a moment, I just lay there.
Letting it sink in.
His room.
His bed.
His arms around me.
Official.
That word echoed quietly in the back of my mind, bringing a soft, almost giddy feeling with it.
I shifted slightly, turning my head just enough to glance back at him.
He was still asleep. Hair a little messy, face relaxed in a way I hadn’t really seen before. No teasing smile, no quick wit—just… peaceful.
It did something strange to my chest.
Careful not to wake him too abruptly, I twisted a little more until I was facing him. His arm tightened instinctively around me, pulling me closer even in his sleep.
I smiled.
“Clingy,” I murmured under my breath.
His brow twitched faintly.
Then, slowly, his eyes opened.
He blinked once. Twice.
Then focused on me.
And just like that, that familiar smile started to form.
“Morning,” he said, voice rough with sleep.
“Morning.”
There was a brief pause.
Then I tilted my head slightly, studying him.
“Soooo…” I dragged the word out just enough to make him suspicious.
His eyes narrowed slightly.
“…yeah?”
I smiled sweetly.
“About that breakfast you promised me.”
That woke him up a little more.
“Oh,” he said. “That.”
“Yes,” I said. “That.”
He shifted, rolling onto his back and dragging a hand down his face.
“I feel like I was set up.”
“You made a promise,” I said lightly. “I’m just holding you accountable.”
He glanced at me sideways.
“Already keeping me in line, huh?”
“Someone has to.”
A slow grin spread across his face.
“Alright,” he said, pushing himself up slightly. “Let’s go see what I can throw together.”
I sat up with him, stretching lightly as the morning light filtered through the window.
“Good answer.”
He looked at me for a second longer than necessary.
“What?” I asked.
“Nothing,” he said, still smiling. “Just… yeah. Good morning.”
Something about the way he said it made my stomach flip.
Dangerous.
We got dressed quickly, the quiet intimacy of the moment lingering between us even as the outside world started creeping back in. The muffled sounds of movement downstairs, distant voices, the low hum of the house waking up.
Daniel opened the door and glanced back at me.
“Ready?”
I nodded.
“Let’s see if you can cook, hockey boy.”
He scoffed.
“I can absolutely cook.”
“Mmhm.”
We stepped into the hallway together, the energy of the house already noticeably different from the night before. Quieter. Slower. But still… alive.
The kitchen came into view as we walked in.
And immediately—
We weren’t alone.
A guy stood at the stove, tall with broad shoulders, flipping something in a pan like he’d done it a thousand times before. His hair was a little messy, like he’d been up for a while already, and there was an easy kind of confidence in the way he moved.
Beside him, leaning against the counter with a mug in her hand, was a girl with long dark hair and a calm, observant expression.
She noticed us first.
Her lips curved slightly.
“Well,” she said. “Look who finally surfaced.”
Daniel let out a short laugh.
“Morning.”
The guy at the stove glanced over his shoulder.
“About time,” he said. “We were starting to think you died.”
Daniel gestured toward me.
“Chloe, this is Billy and Maya. Billy is Annabelle’s cousin and Maya went to highschool with Annabelle, James, and Shannon.”
Maya smiled warmly.
“Nice to officially meet you,” she said. “We heard about you last night.”
“Hopefully nothing too incriminating,” I replied.
Billy snorted.
“No promises.”
He turned back to the stove, flipping something again.
“Breakfast?” he added casually.
Daniel looked at me.
“I was going to cook.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Were you?”
Billy smirked.
“You can still try.”
Maya sipped her coffee.
“Or you can accept defeat gracefully.”
Daniel looked between them, then sighed.
“…I’m making toast.”
I laughed.
“Solid contribution.”
We settled into the kitchen easily, like the rhythm of the house just pulled people into place without effort.
And then—
A notification sound cut through the room. Sharp. Distinct.
Billy paused.
Maya glanced down at her phone.
Another notification followed.
Then another.
Daniel pulled his phone out.
“…Did you guys just get the same email?”
Billy frowned, already tapping his screen.
“Yeah.”
Maya straightened slightly.
“So did I.”
My phone buzzed in my hand. I glanced down. One new email.
No name. No sender.
Just—
Penalty Box Transgressions — Episode One
A single link beneath it.
“That’s… weird,” I said.
Billy let out a short, confused laugh.
“It was sent to everyone.”
“How do you know that?” Daniel asked.
Billy tilted his phone slightly.
“Full student directory.”
Something about that made the air shift.
Maya set her mug down.
“That’s not normal.”
Billy was already tapping the link.
“Well,” he said, “let’s find out what it is.”
He turned slightly, connecting his phone to the Bluetooth speaker already sitting on the counter.
The room filled with a soft crackle.
Then—
A voice. Distorted. Controlled.
“Welcome… to Penalty Box Transgressions.”
The kitchen went quiet.
“For far too long, athletes have gotten away with anything and everything.”
A pause.
“Especially the hockey team.”
Daniel let out a quiet breath beside me.
Billy raised his eyebrows slightly.
“That’s bold.”
The voice continued, steady and deliberate.
“This podcast exists to expose the secrets people thought would stay buried.”
“Stories that never should have been hidden.”
“Stories that belong to the people who were wronged.”
Footsteps sounded behind us. Someone else entered the kitchen.
“Hey guys—“
“Shhh.” Maya said putting her finger to her lips.
The room slowly began to fill with the occupants of the house.
No one spoke. Everyone listened.
“Today marks the beginning of something new.”
“A shift in power.”
The words settled heavily in the air.
“This podcast exists to bring those secrets into the light…”
“So the people who were wronged can finally have their power back.”
“The power to choose.”
“The power to decide.”
“The power to act.”
My fingers tightened slightly around my phone.
The tone wasn’t dramatic. It wasn’t loud. But it was… certain.
Cold.
“Today’s story begins five years ago.”
“Five years ago… in a small-town high school…”
“There was a star athlete.”
“A golden boy.”
“Captain of the hockey team.”
Daniel shifted slightly beside me.
“Okay…”
“He had been dating the same girl since they were fourteen.”
A pause.
“Their relationship was considered perfect.”
My chest tightened.
Something in the room changed. Subtle. But real.
“But five years ago…”
“One decision changed everything.”
No one moved.
“The captain… cheated.”
Silence.
“He never told her.”
“He let her believe their relationship had always been perfect.”
“She still has no idea.”
The audio cut off.
No outro. No music. No indication of what came next.
Just silence.
For a moment, no one in the kitchen spoke. The absence of the voice felt louder than the recording itself, pressing in on us in a way that made it hard to think, let alone react.
Billy was the first to break it, shaking his head slightly as he let out a breath.
“That’s… messed up.”
Daniel frowned, glancing around the room like he expected someone else to make sense of it first.
“Who was that even about?” he asked.
No one answered him.
And that was when I noticed it.
Not the words. Not the story.
The shift.
Maya had gone very still beside the counter, her gaze no longer unfocused or curious but deliberate—tracking, calculating, moving across the room one person at a time. She looked at Blake first, then Billy, then Max, like she was running through possibilities in real time.
Then her eyes stopped.
On James.
The details clicked together one by one, each piece sliding into place with a quiet, sickening certainty that made my stomach twist.
I glanced at Annabelle.
Her expression had changed too.
Not dramatically—she wasn’t crying, wasn’t panicking—but there was something in her eyes now that hadn’t been there before. Something sharper. More focused. Like she was replaying every word she had just heard and lining it up against something she already knew.
I felt my chest tighten as I looked back at James.
He still looked confused.
Still looked like none of this made sense to him.
And somehow, that made it worse.
Annabelle swallowed, her fingers tightening slightly around her coffee mug.
“James…” she said, her voice quieter than it had been all morning.
The entire room seemed to hold its breath.
“Is this about you?”
