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No.

Please no.

The figure jerks the hood all the way back.

Then the mask comes off.

And my world breaks.

I feel stupid.

Used.

Betrayed.

Because I believed her.

I trusted her.

God help me, I actually thought we'd become friends.

I don't have many of those.

Never really have.

Women always seemed to treat one another like competition, and I hated believing that stereotype.

I wanted something different.

I wanted Brielle to be different.

I wanted us to be real.

“Oh, God,” I whisper.

“Brielle?”

Rain whips around us.

My blood runs cold.

“Brielle, why?”

She laughs.

Actually laughs.

Only it doesn't sound like Brielle anymore.

The warmth is gone.

The sweetness.

The humor.

All of it stripped away.

What's left sounds sharp.