Page 164 of His Good Girl

By two in the morning, Jules sat cross-legged on my floor with her laptop open, whispering old contact names to herself and searching for things she should probably not have known how to search for. I sat at the desk with the notebook, copying the cleanest timeline onto a fresh page.

“We should sleep,” Jules said without conviction.

“We should do many things.”

“Like tell Callum.”

“Eventually.”

“Avery.”

“I said eventually.”

“That word is doing felony-level work.”

I looked over at her and she looked right back. We both smiled, just a little, because the friendship was not fixed, not magically, not in one night, but we still had each other and we both knew that.

My phone buzzed on the desk.

Callum Rowe:You’re still awake.

I stared at the message.

Jules leaned over. “How does he know?”

“He’s Callum.”

“That is not a satisfying answer.”

“It’s the only one we have.”

I typed back.

Me:So are you.

His reply came quickly.

Callum Rowe:I said it first.

Despite everything, I smiled the teensiest bit.

Me:Jules is here. I’m safe.

A pause.

Callum Rowe:Are you going to bed soon?

Me:Not yet.

Callum Rowe:Avery.

I swallowed and typed:

Me:I’ll explain when I see you Monday.

Then, before he could answer, I added:

Me:I promise.