“He didn’t tell me everything,” Kael says.“But he told me enough.”
“Enough for what?”
“Enough to know she didn’t want to be alone.”
That word again.
Alone.
My chest twists so hard I almost hunch over.
Because I get it.
I get why she chose Finn.
He’s soft.
He’s safe.
He’s quiet.
He wouldn’t push her.
He wouldn’t grab her.
He wouldn’t scare her by accident.
I exhale slowly, forcing oxygen past the sharp ache in my lungs.
“She should’ve called one of us,” I say.
“She didn’t want us to see her like that.”
“No.”My voice cracks like ice.“She didn’t want to see me.”
Kael doesn’t answer.
He doesn’t have to.
I stand abruptly, needing to move.Needing to break something.Needing—
I don’t know.
I stalk down the hallway, fists clenching and unclenching.Kael follows at a distance but doesn’t speak again.
My boots thud across the tile as I reach the locker room doors — and stop dead.
Wren is there.
Standing in the doorway.
Talking quietly with a rookie about tape sizes.
Her voice is soft.
Her hair pulled into a loose braid.
Her eyes shadowed from lack of sleep.