Mom.
Her face crumpled.
For one second, she looked like she might collapse right onto me.
Then she gathered herself and leaned over, pressing her forehead gently to mine.
“My sweet girl,” she whispered. “You are not over.”
I cried harder.
Edge turned away for half a second, one hand covering his mouth.
Tarak stared at the floor.
JD waited.
That was decent of him.
When I could breathe again, he spoke.
“My old man was country club,” he said.
I blinked through tears.
JD’s mouth twisted. “Hell, my family probably founded half the clubs these people use to convince themselves they’re better than everyone else.”
A weak laugh tried to escape me.
Failed.
“I know how they think,” he continued. “I know what scares them. I know what embarrasses them. I know which calls to make and which donors hate which judges and which school board members have skeletons wrapped in monogrammed linen.”
Regan sniffed. “That was poetic for you.”
“I’m emotionally evolving.”
Edge grunted.
JD looked back at me. “If I’m successful—and I said if—I may be able to keep formal charges from landing hard. We may settle damages. Quietly. Expensively. We may turn the civil threats back on them with enough evidence of bullying, drugging, and negligence that they decide privacy is worth more than revenge.”
My heart thudded.
“But?”
“But you don’t get to waste the fresh start if we buy it for you.”
I stared at him.
JD’s voice grew firm. “If we make this go away enough for nursing school to stay alive, you go. You work. You get counseling because you need it, not because they get to call you crazy. You stop carrying Mandy like a sentence. And you make something out of your life that is bigger than tonight.”
My lips trembled.
“I don’t know if I deserve that.”
Edge made a harsh sound.
Regan pulled back enough to look me in the eye. “You do.”
