Sam looks like she can barely stand—color's gone from her face, her breathing's shaky, and her shoulders keep trembling no matter how hard she tries to pull herself together.
I stand there, watching, my chest tight. Sam can be a handful—hell, sometimes she pushes every button Eli has—but looking at her now, weak and shaking, I know she's telling the truth. She looks genuinely unwell. And terrified.
A part of me wants to punch Elijah for yelling at her like that, for cornering her until she's on the verge of tears—something she almost never lets anyone see.
But at the same time, I can't entirely blame him.
She's tested him more times than I can count, always toeing the line, always seeing how far she could go... except for one boundary.
She never stepped into his room. Not once.
Until tonight.
Elijah's breathing hard, glaring at her like he's still trying to convince himself not to believe a word.
"Yeah, right," he mutters, shaking his head. Then he turns, storms into his room, and slams the door behind him so hard the frame rattles.
Sam flinches at the sound.
For a second, she just stares at the closed door, tears slipping down her cheeks. "I'm sorry," she whispers.
I walk over, resting a hand on her shoulder. "Hey," I say quietly. "Let's go to my room, okay? You can rest there for a bit."
She shakes her head weakly. "No, I... I think I just want to go back to my dorm." She glances at Caroline. "If that's okay."
My girlfriend meets her gaze and nods right away. "Of course. I'll take you back, Sam," she says softly, still rubbing her back. "I'll text you once we get there," she adds, looking at me.
I shake my head. "No. I'll drive you both. It's late."
Caroline opens her mouth to argue, but I give her a look that shuts it down fast.
"Alright," she says finally. "We'll go together."
Sam just nods quietly, wiping at her eyes.
As we head down the hall, the noise from the party downstairs is at its peak—music thumping through the floor, people shouting and laughing like it's the best night of their lives. None of it feels real to me right now.
My arm's around Sam's shoulders as we move through the crowd, keeping her close.
When we finally step outside, the cold air hits us. She leans into me a little, quiet, her steps small and unsteady.
"I'm really sorry, Zachy," she says, her voice barely above a whisper. It's so soft and tired it almost breaks me.
I shake my head. "No need to apologize, Angel. I believe you."
She stops walking, which makes me and Caroline both stop too. She tilts her head up just a little, her eyes searching mine.
"You do?"
"Of course," I say, brushing a strand of hair from her face.
Her lips press together, trembling faintly. "Then... can you help me make Eli understand?" she asks quietly. "He's really mad at me this time, and I don't want him to hate me."
I nod, already opening my mouth to answer. "I will—"
But the words die in my throat.
My eyes catching the streak of red beneath her nose.
