A pause. Luke again, softer. “Who then.”
“Lorne.” The name came like a blade. “He fixes problems. He doesn’t hesitate. And he thinks protecting us means cutting out anyone who dents the family.”
Silence stretched, filled with the hum of their kitchen. A drawer opening, a glass against the counter. The audio cut out for a beat or two before Luke’s steady but too raw voice sounded close to the phone. “I’m not leaving her.”
But there was a beat before it. The hesitation scraped through the speaker—less certainty than fight, as though he was forcing the words through doubt.
Drew pressed anyway. “Then don’t give Lorne a reason.”
The message cut off with a tiny mechanical click.
I stared at my ceiling until the white square blurred. My pulse banged at my throat as if that could push air back in. He hadn’t meant to send it. My name must have been open on his screen; his thumb must have brushed the wrong icon. It didn’t matter. It was mine now.
“I’m not leaving her.”
The pause before the words burned into my skin.
Luke texted before first bell:Early film. See you at lunch. You good?
His message seemed normal. But the shortness of it felt like he was already distancing himself from me, even if he hadn’t meant to.
I typedyesand didn’t hit send. He didn’t deserve my lie. He also didn’t deserve my panic shotgun-blasted into his morning. I slid the phone away and chose quiet.
Before lunch, Avery caught me by the lockers. I told her about the recording. “There has to be an explanation,” she said, low enough that the hallway noise masked it.
I shrugged, the only answer I had. “Maybe.”
She didn’t push, just slid me a look that said she didn’t buy my shrug any more than I did. In the classes I shared with Luke, I did my best to ignore him—arriving late, leaving the second the bell rang, sprinting ahead before he could catch up.
By the time lunch came, Avery told Jax she wanted to sit with her friends today. Jasmine and Margie waved us over, already staked out at a corner table. Avery dropped into the seat between them, pushing up her long sleeves to her elbows, then shot me one glance too many—a reminder that she knew, that she’d sworn there had to be a reason Luke sounded like that hesitation had come from something deeper.
I stabbed at the salad on my tray and let the noise of their chatter blur. Everyone but Luke sat at their usual table.
Tori was a new fixture glued to Theo’s side, which, by the glare locked and loaded on Elise and Nina’s faces a few tables away, promised fallout sooner rather than later.
I lasted three minutes. Then I pushed up and mumbled something about needing air. Avery’s eyes tracked me, but she didn’t stop me. Her hand brushed my forearm as I passed anyway, a press that saidI’m here if you need me.
I didn’t go to the quad. Not today. I took the side corridor between the auditorium and the small practice gym, where a row of narrow windows threw slats of light onto dust and a vending machine whirred. The air smelled faintly of paint and old paper. Someone had taped flyers for the gala along the wall.
I leaned against cool brick and breathed until my shoulders stopped trying to live up near my ears. The message played through my mind again without my permission—Drew’s command, Luke’s answer, the line that cut.
Footsteps. Not hurried. Confident. Perfume before presence.
Elise slid into the slant of light and paused three feet from me, as if an invisible tape line marked the beginning of my oxygen.
She didn’t bother with a greeting. “Rough night?”
I kept my face flat. “Get lost.”
She smiled, all pearl and poison. “I could. Or I could offer you a little kindness, Mila. You look like you need it.”
“Your definition of kindness and mine don’t match.”
“Maybe not.” She took in the corridor—the shut auditorium doors, the way the light split under them, the emptiness. “Maybe I’m just here to congratulate you.”
“On what.”
“Surviving yesterday.” She tipped her head. Diamonds winked at her ears. “Your mother worked fast with Principal Miller to help get you cleared. Faster than I gave her credit for.”
