“We heard,” Knox says solemnly.
Maisie giggles wildly.
As everyone begins to shuffle out of the gymnasium, chatting about the matches, I feel my phone vibrate again. It’s a relentless, aggressive buzzing.
Not a text. A call.
I pull it out, my stomach sinking. The screen is dark, but the vibration persists. I reject the call, and a text pops up immediately.
I see you.
Another follows.I see your new friends.
Then a picture loads. It’s grainy, taken from a distance, but clear enough to make my blood run cold.
It’s of me and Knox, kissing in the alley behind the restaurant yesterday. Another of me and Maisie and Norah in the flower shop.
One of Dorian and his mom outside the hospital. And one of us arriving here.
Attached is a final text.Come outside. Alone. Or people will be hurt.
My heart stutters, then kicks into a painful rhythm. I look around, panic clawing up my throat. The gymnasium is crowded. Parents, students, siblings.
I spin toward Jude. “I have to... I need to take this. Can you guys watch Maisie?”
“What? Amber, what’s wrong?” Jude frowns, instantly going on high alert.
“Stella has an emergency.” I hate lying to him, but I can’t tell him Luke is here. I can’t have him go all Alpha protective and ruin Maisie’s night. Or worse, get hurt.
“We’ve got her,” Ryker says, stepping in, placing a heavy hand on Jude’s shoulder. “Go. We’ll talk to the teacher.”
“I’ll be five minutes.”
“Amber,” Eli says, standing up. “I’m coming with you.”
“No,” I say, a little too sharply. “I need to handle this. Just... watch them for me? Please?”
Eli hesitates, searching my face, then nods slowly. “Okay. We’ll be right here.”
“Thank you.”
I turn and flee toward the exit, my hands shaking so badly I can barely grip the strap of my bag. I push through the heavy metal doors and step out into the freezing night air.
The temperature drop is immediate, biting at my skin.
The parking lot is a sea of cars, headlights cutting through the darkness. My phone buzzes again, a harsh vibration against my hip.
Start walking. Now.
I move toward the far lot, walking as fast as I can without breaking into a run. The wind whips around me, cutting right through my thin sweater.
I reach the edge of the overflow lot, near the line of trees that separates the school from the woods.
A black minivan is idling there, the engine running, the exhaust puffing white smoke into the cold air.
I stop. I can’t move my legs. They feel like lead weights.
The driver’s side window rolls down with a mechanical whir.
