Everyone saw how Nate has been in love with her since he was like seven, and part of me always knew that, too.I just didn’t want to believe it because it made me feel replaceable.Like I wasn’t enough for either of them.
But the crazy part?
He never gave up on me, not even when I deserved it.
All those nights as kids—Dad coming home drunk, fists hungry for a target—Nate was the wall that stood between me and carnage.He took the blows.He tried to hide it all from me but that shit was too hard to hide.I know now, it wasn't an obligation to him.
It was love.
And I repaid him by siding with Dad and sabotaging his happiness.If I can’t erase the years he spent bleeding for me, I can at least give him this.Evidence and leverage and hopefully in some way, freedom from the lasso that’s been tied around his neck.
My phone buzzes.
Nate
Sorry, got caught up with Mom.I’m almost there.
Relief barrels through me,followed immediately by guilt because he thinks we’re here to talk.He doesn’t know I’m about to drop a bomb that will drag every ghost we’ve ever had out into the open.
I tear through the documents, photographing everything.It’s horrifying.
Dad’s mind isn’t chaotic—it's calculated.
Every payment, every threat and every destroyed family is all catalogued like he’s proud of it.And then the profiles with full names and photos.
Residents of South Eden, past and present—a collection of lives he dismantled with the kind of precision serial killers dream about.And the most damning thing is the police officers, councilmen, inspectors that he’s bought, trained and turned into loyalists.
My hands shake harder as I photograph everything, because this—this is the chain-breaking stuff.I hit upload and wait impatiently for the files to finally send.
“Come on, come on.”I whisper to no one.
A sound snaps the air and my head jerks at the sound of heavy footsteps.
“Nate?”My voice sounds thin.
The footsteps get closer and then stop just as the door swings open.
And my blood turns to ice.
Monty.
He fills the frame like something sculpted out of nightmares, blocking out the hall light with his bulk.
“Your daddy’s not happy with you, kid.”
My lungs lock.
Scott knows about everything.
I was careful.I wassocareful.
“I—I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I lie, but my voice cracks like I’m twelve again, hiding while Dad storms down the hall.
Monty laughs and the sound is pure gravel and cruelty.
“You thought you were slick?Scott’s been watching you for weeks.Letting you run around, seeing how far the little prince would go.”
Every secret I thought I kept suddenly feels ridiculous.I wasn’t ahead of the game—I was the entertainment.
