Page 22 of Top Shelf

She must be petrified.

Believing what she does, how did she even stomach being in my presence tonight? Letting me touch her?

I shake my head, with newfound awe at the sheer strength this woman possesses.

Taking a few stabilizing breaths, I turn back to face her. It’s even more imperative now that we find out who actually attacked her. We need to set the record straight. Prove to her that it wasn’t us.

Moving into a corner of the room where my mother is unlikely to catch me on my phone instead of socializing, I type out a message to the guys.

Me

We have a problem.

Wren thinks it was us.

Lucian

Us what?

Me

She believes we were the ones who attacked her that night.

Lucian

What the fuck?!

Silas

Why does she think that?

Me

She didn’t exactly explain, but I’m guessing we’re the only real memory she has of that night.

Lucian

Well, fuck.

Silas

Then we need to show her that it wasn’t.

Lucian

How do we do that?

Silas

We find out who it was.

Me

And we show her who we really are.

Pocketing my phone, I exit the gala. I’ve seen enough. Learned enough. Whatever Wren Winslow survived didn’t end that night. She might put on a brave front, a strong bravado for the world, but I see the damage slumbering beneath the surface. Pain she won’t allow herself to acknowledge. Trauma that one day will rear up and destroy the protective casing she has wrapped around herself.

The problem is she’s entirely alone. I refuse to let that be the case when that day comes.