Images of me with Lo.
Images of me in my office.
My breaths became sharp, shredding everything in my chest.
That one word.
I felt like I had been drenched in ice-cold water, a chill gripping my bones. Notes were scribbled in the margins in a sloppy, slanted scrawl.
Likes art. Stares a lot. Learn about art.
Has no friends. Alone.
Hates her eyes, make her like them.
Make her care. Easiest way to manipulate.
About 90 moons until procreation.
I stared at the words. That warm, wonderful feeling that had unfurled in my chest ruptured, shattering all the things I thought I knew, all the things I thought I wanted.
I was acutely aware of the door opening as I shut the folder. Hal was saying something, but I couldn’t hear him over the roaring in my head, the word written on the folder taunting me. I turned, the folder clenched in my hand.
“Moonlight.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
THAT WORD. MY EYES SLAMMED INTO HIS STARBURST GAZE. He looked between me and the folder. His smile faltered. He held a painting in his hands.
“Moonlight,” he said again, slowly lowering the frame. This time it sounded like a plea. “Where did you get that?”
I couldn’t get the words to come out. I couldn’t ask. Because I knew that once I did, once he voiced it, this would be real. I pointed to the table.
“Moonlight, I can explain.” Desperation tinged his voice as he rested the frame against the sofa.
“Do. Not. Call. Me. That,” I bit out.
Hal took a step toward me.
I retreated. I needed to get out of here. I dropped the folder. I needed to get away from everything. Everything I had begun to trust, everything I had begun to rearrange my life around. Everything I had given away. To him. I needed to run—as far away as possible.
Hal moved toward me again, grabbing at my hand.
I yanked it away. “Don’t touch me.”
“I can explain, Moon—Emeline,” Hal begged. “I can explain. It isn’t what it looks like.”
I had risked so much, bent rules and lied for what I thought had been real. I had given myself to him. Walked right into his plan. I felt my heart crack open under the realization that both sides seemed to have a role for me—a need, not a want.
I had chosen wrong—again.
“Emeline, I can explain,” Hal pleaded, coming to stand in front of me.
A ghost of a laugh escaped me. My chest hollowed as the remains of my heart seeped out, contaminating the room. The knot in my throat gagged me as my eyes stung.
“Did one of those papers tell you to sleep with me?” I choked out. “Or was that just for fun?”
I stared at those starburst eyes. The eyes I had seen a future with. Eyes I had been willing to risk everything for. I stared, needing to see the truth.
