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The words are low, controlled, and they almost break me because I didn’t say Alester’s name. I didn’t say that part out loud, and still he knows exactly where my mind went.

I look at him for one long second. Then I say, “That doesn’t make this better.”

His jaw tightens.

Maybe he was hoping it would.

I move past him, my shoulder brushing his on the way to the door. He doesn’t try to stop me. I’m grateful for that. And I’m furious at him for making gratitude part of this.

My hand is on the knob when he says my name.

I close my eyes. Then I open the door and walk out.

The hallway is empty. The party is still going somewhere farther down, muffled by walls and distance, and for one stupid moment I want to laugh at the fact that my birthday is still happening while my whole life is busy tearing open in a side room.

I don’t look back. If I do, I might stop.

And if I stop, I might listen.

And right now, I can’t survive one more man sounding certain about what’s happening inside my body.

Chapter Nineteen

MAGGIE

The next morning, I wake up before my alarm.

Not because I’m well rested. Because my brain doesn’t let me sleep long enough to forget.

For a few seconds, I lie there and stare at the ceiling, trying to decide if yesterday actually happened or if I managed to invent the worst possible version of my life overnight.

Then I remember the camera flash. The room. Alester’s voice.

Dalton’s face. And the thought he left me with.

My stomach turns.

“Great,” I mutter. “We’re starting early today.”

I roll onto my side and reach for my phone.

Big mistake.

Notifications. Too many. Group chats. Missed calls. Messages stacked on top of each other like people lining up to confirm that yes, my life is now publicly available content.

I don’t open any of them.

Instead, I go to the one place I know will be the least chaotic.

Simone.

Me: Are you awake?

Three dots appear immediately.

Simone: I have been awake for TWO HOURS waiting for you to wake up and explain what the hell I saw.

I close my eyes.