Page 28 of Broken Blades

"I didn't do anything." The words came out barely above a whisper.

He exhaled. Some of the steel left his shoulders. "I know." Two words. Quiet. Almost gentle. Then he straightened again. "But the world doesn't."

Silence stretched between us. Heavy. Suffocating.

My father checked his watch. Made some internal decision. "We're meeting him."

My pulse jumped so hard I felt it in my throat. "Him?"

The pronoun hung in the air. Loaded. Dangerous. He didn't elaborate. Didn't explain. Just crossed to the door with the kind of purpose that meant the conversation was over. His hand touched the doorknob.

"Get dressed." He glanced back. Met my eyes. "Something professional. We leave in forty minutes."

"Wait—where are we⁠—"

"Get dressed, Chastity."

The door clicked shut behind him.

I sat frozen in bed. Phone still dark on the comforter beside me. The photograph burned behind my eyelids even when I closed them.

Wyatt Garrison.

A man I didn't know. Didn't recognize. Couldn't even picture without the mask.

And now I was about to meet him.

My hands shook when I reached for my closet.

I dressed like I was preparing for a funeral. Navy slacks. White button-down. Blazer that buttoned high and showed nothing. Hair pulled back so tight my scalp ached. Minimal makeup. Earrings my mother gave me for my twenty-first birthday—small, tasteful, expensive enough to matter.

The mirror showed someone I barely recognized. Not the girl in the garden photograph. Not the one with her spine curved and lips parted and a stranger's hand at her zipper.

This version looked sealed. Contained. Every inch of skin covered except my hands and face.

I looked exposed anyway.

My phone vibrated against the dresser. Once. Twice. A steady rhythm that hadn't stopped since I'd picked it up an hour ago.

I made the mistake of looking.

Texts flooded the screen. Names I hadn't thought about in months. College friends. Sorority sisters. People I'd met once at networking events.

OMG is that really you???

Girl you have to tell me EVERYTHING

Didn't know you were into athletes

Another buzz. A notification from Instagram. Someone had tagged me.

I opened it without thinking.

The photograph again. Reposted. Filtered. Cropped closer so you could see the gap in my dress. The shadow of my spine. His hand dark against pale fabric.

The comments beneath made my stomach turn.

Lucky bitch