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“Not at all,” the woman, Ellie, replied brightly, snagging the syrup and basically dumping half the bottle over the plate. Which had started to drip off one side, though Ellie didn’t seem to notice. She shoved a huge bite into her mouth and chewed. Syrup also dripped down her chin. “You must be Brielle.” She grinned as she chewed.

I nodded. “Yes. Pleased to meet you.”

Conversation drifted easily, flowing from woman to woman. They asked questions, but nothing too personal. More like a sorority in college getting to know each other.

At one point, I realized Pippa had gone silent, her face gone from its usual flush to a pale, sweaty version of herself. She got up without warning, muttered, “Be right back,” and left fast for the hallway.

Hannah followed, but I could hear retching even before she reached the bathroom door. Mia watched, nonplussed, then turned back to me. “Sorry. We really must be passing around something viral. If you start feeling queasy, let us know.”

“Thank you. I will,” I said, softly.

Ellie continued to eat her breakfast and I had the urge to smile. Christ, I was in so much trouble. I could totally see myself fitting in with this group.

We ate in silence, though there were punctuations of retching. Strangely, no one seemed to mind. For some reason, I had the almost uncontrollable urge to giggle.

Pippa came back not long after, little pale but moving better. She groaned. “That came outta nowhere.”

“I’m telling you guys, whatever this is going around is positively wicked,” Ellie said.

Surprisingly, the women seemed to roll with the punches, so to speak. They took care of each other, teased each other, and genuinely seemed to like each other. I found myself smiling and laughing with them, for the first time since I was a teenager feeling like I had a tribe.

It was nearly four in the afternoon before I left the women in the kitchen. I felt better than I had in weeks, but the tension came back in waves as soon as I stepped into the hallway and found Dane waiting. He leaned against the frame of the common room, arms folded.

“Thought I’d find you here,” he said, voice low and almost hypnotic.

“I --” I tried to think of a reason for him to be looking for me but couldn’t think of anything. “Am I supposed to be somewhere else?”

He shook his head. “Just checking on you.” He nodded back toward the kitchen. “All the old ladies are great.”

I smiled. “Yes. They’re all wonderful.”

My phone trilled an incoming call and I pulled it from my back pocket, frowning when I didn’t recognize the number. Normally, I’d have let it go to voicemail, but I wasn’t too proud to admit I wanted an excuse to cut whatever conversation Dane wanted with me short. So, I answered. “Hello?”

“Brielle.” Grant Sutton’s voice sounded warm, neutral, friendly. “You picked up. Good.” I said nothing and had to force myself not to look at Dane. Immediately, he recognized the problem and motioned for me to put the call on speaker. There was a pause, then, he continued. “I’ve been worried about you. You left without a word to anyone. You know you can call me any time, especially if you’re in trouble.”

“I’m fine,” I said. And my gaze automatically fixed on Dane. I closed my eyes and took a breath.

“I know things have been difficult, and I regret anything I may have done to make them so. If you need help, you know I’ll do anything I can.”

“I’m dealing with some personal issues that came up suddenly. There’s nothing anyone can do, but I appreciate the offer.”

When I opened my eyes, Dane held my gaze, steady and patient, so unlike the man I’d first met outside the gates of this place. I wanted to say something brave, but the words wouldn’t form. Instead, I let Sutton speak.

“Let’s not pretend.” His previous warmth cooled as he continued. “You took something from me. Something valuable. Please understand. I’m not angry. But I do want it back. You’re not in trouble. But if you make this into a bigger issue, you might hurt people who don’t deserve to be hurt. I don’t want that. I know you don’t, either.”

“I’m not a threat to you, Mr. Sutton. So why are you threatening me now?”

He sighed. “I’m not threatening you, Brielle. But this is a warning. I want to talk. Just talk. I want to make this right. For you, for everyone. If you’re with Dane Rourke, I’m sure he’s explained how much harder this gets if you escalate.”

My mouth had gone dry as my gaze stayed locked on Dane. “I think I’m fine where I am.” My voice trembled, but I held it together. Mostly.

“That’s not true, and we both know it. You don’t belong with people like him. You’re better than that. You always were.”

It was a trick he used when I was nineteen, to make me feel elevated and chosen. In reality, he used his expectation of my capabilities as a way to control me.

Dane moved to sit on the coffee table between us and rested his forearms on his knees as we focused on each other.

“What do you want, Mr. Sutton?”