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“I thought I was protecting you…” Dee says quietly, her head lowered.

I roll my eyes.

Protecting me, my ass.

“From what? As I see it, the only thing I needed protection from was you.”

She gasps in horror and stands tall, and for a brief moment, I think I see guilt in her expression. Before I’m able to decipher it, the look on her face quickly shifts to anger, and she points at the exit.

“Get the fuck out, Lyr. Now.”

I look down at my twiddling fingers and peer over at Attie through my lashes. I shouldn’t have said that; I know that, but I couldn’t contain it. Dee knows how to send me into a spiral; she’s been doing it since eighth grade and she’s never going to change now. I don’t know what I expected, but this behavior tracks.

“Fine. I don’t need you or this bullshit friendship,” I retort.

I quickly stand up and head for the door. There’s no way she didn’t know I would react like this. Best friends since eighth grade, and this is how it ends. I’m overwhelmed with emotion. Layers of confusion mixed with grief, folded in anger, all because she lied. Attie grabs my wrist and tugs me to face him.

“Are you sure you wanna do this? I don’t think you’ll be able to go back to how things were if you don’t correct this now.”

I yank my arm back and rub my sore wrist.

“I’m positive. You can stay if you want, but I’m leaving.”

I spin on my heel and fade through the door, leaving one of the biggest and most consistent parts of my old life behind.

I’m about to cross the street when I’m suddenly flung backward and pulled onto something hard, and it isn’t the ground. A large hand wraps around the front of my neck, and a wet tongue flicks at my earlobe.

“Attie?” I gasp.

“Listen here, princess. I understand you’re pissed off and frustrated by what just happened with Cruella, but you don’t get to take it out on me. Got it? I’m not the enemy, but I can and will be your tormentor. Don’t test me.”

My pussy clenches at his words. I want to dare him to punish me, but I don’t.

He rolls us over and climbs off me, helping me out of the grass.

“So, what now?” I can hear the defeat in my voice and try to suppress the disappointment.

Attie crosses his arms over his chest and strokes his beard while he thinks. I’ve noticed he does this a lot when he’s lost in thought, so I attempt to wait patiently for an answer.

“What about your parents?” he asks.

“What do you mean? What of them?”

I’m not sure where he’s going with this, but I assume he has an idea.

“Well, they were harming you for most of your life. What if that’s the key? You should at least confront them if nothing else.”

He looks so pleased with this revelation and suggestion. I, however, am not thrilled with this option. I can’t help but feel slightly offended that he would even suggest this.

“Confront them how?” I ask in frustration.

I fold my arms over my chest and cock my hip out.

Continuing, “Hey, thanks for doing nothing to prevent my death. I’m a ghost now. I know you know about my murder and are in on covering it up. Now, are you ready to talk about our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ? I have somewhere to be,” I say with an annoyed huff.

I continue, “Yeah, I’m sure that’ll go over so well.”

He grabs me by the throat and pulls me into his broad chest.