“Call her,” Shay said. “Tell her everything or nothing. She’ll help you.”
So I did.
And now I’m standing backstage at an auction because a girl I once traded homework answers with threw me a lifeline ten years later. Sometimes, the people who save you are the ones who knew you before your world turned into a battlefield.
I take a deep breath, remembering Marlie’s words from the phone call.
You set the rules. No touching. No pressure. You walk off that stage if anyone breathes wrong. Understood?
“Understood,” I whisper now, as if she’s beside me.
You’re not the first woman who came here to disappear, Sadie. But disappearing doesn’t mean losing yourself.
Easy for her to say. She’s not the one with a metaphorical price tag painted on her skull.
I don’t want a husband. I don’t want romance. I want air. A choice. And a life that isn’t shaped by fear.
The announcer’s voice rises beside me. “Time for our final lady tonight…”
Too late to run.
I step out.
The light hits me like a slap. My pupils tighten. My skin prickles.
Rows of chairs stretch out beneath the stage. Soft jazz hums. Warm lighting. Plush seating. It’s curated kindness, just like Marlie promised.
But shadows can hide monsters.
My name isSadie Brennantonight. The alias feels flimsy, like it might dissolve if someone asks too many questions.
I keep my chin up and scan the room. Not faces yet.
Exits. Cover. Weak points.
Left side: two double doors.
Right: curtain leading backstage.
Ceiling rigging: not climbable.
Only after the map is in place do I let myself look at them.
Kind eyes. Curious eyes. A few slick smiles. A woman in the back taking notes.
Then—
Left side. Back row.
Everything in me goes still.
He’s sitting with two other men. All three are built like mountains. But it’s him my body recognizes before my brain does. He’s not trying to blend in. He just exists like gravity.
Broad shoulders in a sheepskin coat. Stillness carved from weather. Storm-gray eyes that meet mine without flinching. Not greedy. Not assessing like prey.
Seeing.
The ground shifts beneath me. Heat flares along myskin—not fear, but something I don’t have a name for.
