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“Margo. I’m so fucking sorry.”

Del stands up, walking over and ushering us to the booth where Ivy and Joss are sitting.

Joss plants her tattooed forearms on the table. “We’re going to find that motherfucker.”

A man at the next booth looks over. She turns her head. “Eat your fries.”

Ivy slides a clean napkin across the table with ink-stained fingers. She doesn’t tell me to stop crying. “Did you delete it?” she asks quietly.

I nod. “Doesn’t mean there won’t be more.”

My voice shakes.

Hazel gently pushes me down into a seat. “You need some water and food. I’ll be right back.”

I clutch at her hand. “Don’t go.”

Hazel bites her lip, squeezing my hand. “Okay. PHILLIP!”

She yells at the top of her lungs and I jerk.

The other server, Phillip, hurries over, brown eyes wide.

“What’s going on? Who’s dead?”

“You, if you don’t take over my tables.”

“Aw, Hazel⁠—”

“I’ll split my tips with you.” She pauses as if it physically pains her to offer. “Even the ones from my regulars.”

Phillip grins. He’s maybe seventeen, and he’s saving up for a sports car.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“And get us some water. And three orders of home fries.”

He nods and takes off.

By the time he returns with the waters, I’m burying my face in my hands and hyperventilating.

Joss scoots closer and Ivy leans across the table.

Del’s still fuming, one hand swallowed by her hoodie sleeve while the other works her phone. “I saved a screenshot. Username, time, the whole thing.”

“Del,” Hazel says.

“What? I can be furious and organized.”

Joss leans in. “And Bryan’s back in town. He was at the Dive last night, drinking with Seth and running his mouth about you.”

If I could breathe enough to speak, I’d tell her it doesn’t matter. All of Garland Falls knows.

Hazel rubs my back and finally, I gasp in a breath, a sob catching in my chest.

“It’s going to be okay.”

“It’s not. It’s not. Everyone thinks I’m a huge slut and maybe I am, and now they all hate me⁠—”