I keep my head high. “You said cheer meeting.”
“Right,” Brielle says sweetly. “We just weren’t sure if you’d have time between, you know…” She trails off, pretending to think. “…your busy schedule.”
Laughter again.
I clench my jaw. “If you’ve got something to say, just say it.”
“Oh, relax,” Maggie says, straightening up. “We’re just reminding you that having a reputation is a problem to the team. You might want to stop with the cliches.”
I fold my arms. “Are you done?”
“Not quite.” Brielle steps closer, voice dropping. “If you think you canfuckyour captain’s boyfriend and get away with it, think again. And you will not quit the squad, you hear me. Don’t even think about it.”
“Why not?”
Maggie smiles, all teeth. “Because if you do, we’ll make sure everyone on campus knows exactly what you did. Videos, screenshots, group chats—you name it.”
My stomach lurches. “You don’t have anything like that.”
She shrugs. “Are you sure? I can make anything seem believable in the age of A.I. Don’t fucking mess with me.”
The two of them turn to leave, bumping shoulders with me on the way out.
“Welcome to Delta Pi, babe,” Brielle says over her shoulder. “Actions have consequences.”
The door slams behind them.
I stand there shaking, trying to breathe, trying not to cry, but it’s no use. Everything I’ve built here—the fresh start, the safety, the illusion that I could be normal again—it’s all falling apart.
All because of Miles. One man I can’t seem to erase from my veins.
By the time I make it back to the house, my head’s pounding. I just need quiet. A shower. Maybe a few hours to convince myself I can fix this.
My phone buzzes on my nightstand. Unknown number.
I almost ignore it, but something about the area code catches my eye.
I answer. “Hello?”
“Miss Ashford?” The voice is clipped, professional. “This is Mr. Langford, your father’s attorney. I’m calling regarding a transfer notice.”
My heart stutters. “Transfer? I—I don’t understand. What kind of transfer?”
“Your father is being relocated to a federal facility in Green County. The process begins this afternoon. If you’d like to see him before the move, you’ll need to be at the county station within two hours.”
The words hit too fast, too hard.
“What?” I whisper. “Why? They said he’d be here until—”
“I’m sorry,” Langford says, his tone softening. “It’s out of my hands. They’ve accelerated the schedule. If you want to see him, I’d suggest you leave now.”
He hangs up before I can form another question.
I stare at the phone in my hand, the world tilting around me.
Two hours.
I sink onto the edge of my bed, hands trembling.
