Mine.
I knew it was mine.
Shame hit so hard I nearly gagged.
“Oh no,” I whispered.
His eyes lifted fast.
Dark.
Focused.
Tired.
“Hey,” he said quietly.
I tried to pull my hand away.
He let me.
That made it worse.
My fingers curled against my chest, but the wrapped hand protested and pain sparked bright enough to make my eyes water.
“Easy,” Dylan said, leaning forward.
I shook my head and immediately regretted it. The room tilted.
“No. No, no, no.”
“Destiny.”
I squeezed my eyes shut.
The name hurt.
It had never hurt like this before. Not even when Brielle said it like glitter and dollar bills. Not even when the boys laughed. Not even when the whole school turned my mother into a ghost story and me into the punchline.
Now it hurt because I had lived up to it.
To the worst version.
To every whisper.
To every warning nobody wanted to say out loud.
I opened my mouth, and the apology came clawing up so fast I barely caught breath around it.
“I’m sorry.”
The door opened.
Regan was there before the words finished leaving me.
“No.”
Her voice cracked.
