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I check the time on my phone, ignoring the string of notifications. I know. I’m late. But I’ll be there soon enough. Just have to do this one thing.

“C’mon, c’mon,” I mutter, drumming on the steering wheel. My eyes focus on the opening in the woods.

It’s easy to miss. Most people do. Pretty sure my father designed it that way. A driveway without a marker or even a mailbox, a quarter of a mile through the forest. It’s like he’s done everything he can to hide who he is from the world. I seem to be the only one who’s seen his true form. And now, Sadie.

Stay with me. Please stay with me.

Which is why I’m sitting here, covertly pulled over in the woods, stalking my family. Waiting for them to leave. When my mother dropped my suit off at Collin’s earlier this week, she told me they’re all attending graduation. I had to bite my tongue until I tasted blood to keep my mouth shut. I don’t want my father anywhere near me today. He made it perfectly clear we were done, threatening my life if I ever returned to this house. Which is why this is stupid. But I left something behind, and I can’t move on without it.

My mother’s convinced this is just another of our disagreements. Some stupid misunderstanding that fathers and sons have. That it’s nothing. Because we continue to protect her from the truth. I can’t bring myself to tell her how many times he’s punched me. Kicked me. Shoved me to the ground. And he’ll take it to his grave rather than reveal who he really is to the woman he loves.

Jonathan. Please, please… I need you.

I blow out a breath as soon as the silver SUV exits the driveway. Finally. When they’re far enough away, I shift the truck into gear and gun it down the drive, kicking up a cloud of dirt in my wake. Get in and out. I’m barely going to make it on time as it is. I can slip into my seat if they’re already on the field. The only benefit of my father attending the ceremony is knowing he won’t be here, so I can sneak into my room undetected.

I steer the truck around the island in the center of the drive and keep it running, not bothering to close the door as I jog to the side entrance of the garage. It’s unlocked. I hesitate for only half a second, a little surprised by this. My father’s meticulous when it comes to locking up. I should know, since I took the brunt of his annoyance every time a door or window was left unlocked. I had my key ready, prepared for it not to work, for him to have changed the locks the day I left. I don’t care why this happened; I’m taking advantage.

I promised never to return here, but it’s a promise I have to break. Probably won’t be the last.

My room appears untouched. I can guarantee he’s searched every inch. He did when I lived here. I’m surprised he’s put everything back. Apparently he’s still determined to go undetected. What I returned for is exactly where I stuffed it, between the mattress and the wall. I yank out the small purple stuffed animal and turn to leave, racing down the stairs.

I can’t do this without you. You have to stay with me.

I toss the purple monster into the truck. The friend Sadie gave me when she found me in the woods when we were six. I couldn’t leave it here, no matter the risk.

A sharp pain punctures my side. I turn my head to find my father’s menacing glare slicing through me, along with the small, double-edged blade tucked between his knuckles, which he’s stabbed beneath my ribs.

“I told you, if you ever came back here again, I’d kill you.”

I startle awake, my eyes searching before they can really focus. My heartbeat begins to even out when I find Jonathan next to me. Asleep. Safe. Breathing deep breaths that whistle through parted lips when he exhales. I smile. I tell him he snores. He doesn’t really, but he gets all worked up over it every time I say it, like the thought of snoring makes him the worst boyfriend.

Fiancé.

Been engaged all summer, but I’m still not used to it. I extend my left hand. The ring’s not there. Of course it isn’t. I have to take it off sometimes. But only because I accidentally cut Jonathan with it when I slept with it on the first week we were engaged. I never want to take it off. But it’s safer for us both if I do—at least while we sleep.

Watching him whistle-snore with day-old scruff on his jaw makes me want to touch him. But I restrain myself. My heart is having a hard time catching up to this present moment, still stuck in the nightmare of watching the ambulance drive off with Jonathan in its bay. Leaving me covered in his blood, screaming after him while Collin tried to calm my hysterics and the police officer attempted to get some sort of statement.

Three and a half years later, I still need to assure myself Jonathan’s alive. Lying across from me in our bed, in our off-campus studio. Okay, technically, it started as mine last year when I was finally allowed to leave the dorms. It became ours when we returned this semester. I convinced him that we need to learn to be in each other’s space before we’re married, so he’ll realize I’m impossible to live with. Now he’ll know all of the peculiarities he’s stuck with for the rest of our lives.

He thought I was being ridiculous. Because I was. But he moved in anyway.

I rip the blankets off me, searching the bed, like the nightmare I’m escaping has followed me here. I can’t find who I’m looking for. There’s no one here. I’m alone. Just like every morning. There’s only me in this bed. In this apartment.

I reach for my phone to stop my alarm, set to go off in forty minutes. The date lights up, reminding me that there’s nothing to count down anymore. To anticipate. It’s today. I run a hand down my face.

Sleep isn’t an option. And lying here is only going to make my thoughts turn into memories I don’t want to relive. My heart’s already pounding, so might as well go for a run.

My phone vibrates as I’m tying my running shoes. I hesitate before looking, knowing anyone texting this early is probably someone I don’t want to hear from. I look anyway.

Sadie: You okay? I had a feeling… I needed to check.

My heart still hasn’t calmed, and seeing her message on my screen is already making today worse.

“Dammit, Sadie,” I grumble at the phone. My thumb hovers above the delete button. I type, I’m okay, against my better judgment.

I lose all judgment when it comes to Sadie Prescott, which is why her number still exists, unblocked, on my phone.

I haven’t heard from her in months. Not since last spring. I know why she’s messaging. Not because we’re connected psychically or anything, despite her beliefs about being able to sense me. She’s always had a different way of living in this world… I can’t think about her. Not now. Not today.