I slam my fist against the wall outside the library, needing something to hurt other than my pride. I should tell Nico and Levi, but even that feels dangerous. How do I explain that the girl I’m falling for is the reason we’re all in even deeper shit?
None of this makes sense. I want to hate her. But all I feel is lost. I don’t know what’s true anymore
By the time I hit the cafeteria, the place is packed, echoing with the scrape of chairs and the low drone of dozens of conversations nobody really wants to have. The overhead lights flicker, throwing everything into that washed-out, institutional yellow. I grab a tray—lukewarm beans, a hunk of grayish meatloaf, two slices of white bread hard enough to chip a tooth—and shove my way through the crowd.
Nico and Levi are at our usual spot in the back, slouched low, eyeing the rest of the room like they’re ready for a fight. I set my tray down with a clatter and sit, trying to swallow the anger rising up in my throat.
Neither of them speaks. I push the tray aside, not interested in eating, my mind still stuck in the library.
“I just talked to Carrie,” I start, voice low so it doesn’t carry. “She finally came clean. Rodriguez put her in here. She’s an informant. For the feds.”
Nico’s halfway through a bite when he freezes, fork suspended. The plastic bends in his grip. He stares at me, then at Levi. “What?”
Levi blinks, his jaw clenching. The old lines of exhaustion in his face deepen, and for a long second, he says nothing.
I look at Levi, still not believing it myself. “Even you’re shocked?”
He sets his fork down slow, not looking at me. “I doubted her, that’s true. But I never wanted it to be true.”
“Why not?” My voice cracks, all the tension and fear bubbling up. “You’re the one who told us not to trust so easy.”
He looks up at me, pain raw in his eyes. “You know why, Jace. We all do.”
Nico lets his fork fall, the beans forgotten. None of us say it out loud, but the truth hangs over the table. We didn’t just getplayed—we let ourselves get played. All three of us, too far in to ever go back.
Levi shakes his head, running a hand over his buzzed hair. “So what now? We just pretend like it didn’t happen? Like we’re not all in love with a girl who might ruin us?”
No one answers. The cafeteria noise buzzes on, the guards yell at someone for cutting in line, and my food sits cold and untouched as the three of us stare at each other, gutted and betrayed.
And still, I know the minute I see her again, my heart will crack wide open all over. That’s the worst part.
Nico leans back, rubbing at his jaw. His food sits untouched, the steam long gone. “But why now? Why come clean after all this? It doesn’t make sense. If she wanted to keep us close, this is the worst move she could make. Now we’ll never trust her.”
Levi lets out a slow breath, nodding. “She had us. All she had to do was keep playing the part.”
I shake my head, staring at the scratched-up tabletop. “Something’s up with her. She looked like hell. Barely keeping it together. She’s scared, yeah, but it’s more than that. She was about to break, like she couldn’t carry it anymore.”
Nico scoffs, not buying it. “So what? She’s scared? Welcome to prison. We’re all scared. Still doesn’t explain why she’d blow her cover if she really wanted us to trust her.”
I run a hand through my hair, the weight of it all crushing down. “I don’t know, man. Maybe she’s in trouble with Rodriguez. Maybe she’s trying to get ahead of something. Or maybe—maybe she actually gives a damn about us, and that’s the problem.”
Nico shakes his head, eyes hard. “I don’t know what her angle is, but I’m not letting my guard down again. She fooled us once.”
We sit there, staring at each other, nothing but the low hum of the cafeteria around us. None of us have answers. None of us want to admit how much we still want to trust her, even now.
Whatever we thought we had with Carrie—whatever hope or sweetness or possibility—it’s shattered now. There’s no getting back the trust we gave her. She broke it. Maybe she had her reasons, maybe she’s got her own hell to walk through, but it doesn’t matter.
All that’s left between us and her is a hard wall of suspicion.
21
CARRIE
It’s dark by the time I get back to the motel, the cold glow of the sign flickering through the window. I throw my bag on the chair and sink onto the bed, exhaustion and grief pressing me down. The guys aren’t speaking to me. Their trust is gone, and with it, any sense of hope I had left.
My phone buzzes. Unknown number. For a second, I almost ignore it, but something makes me swipe to answer.
“Hello?”
