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I swallow the lump in my throat and nod. “Yes, Paulo.”

“Good girl,” he coos the two words that used to make me feel appreciated, now they leave fear in my gut. “I don’t like repeating myself.” He releases me, and I finally allow myself to breathe. When I walk, he doesn’t follow, but I know it won’t be long before he’s ensuring I’m malleable.

In my bedroom, I shut the door and lean against the wooden surface, breathing deeply. I want nothing more than to run into the forest and get lost in the darkness, but I can’t leave the house right now. Not when I have Paulo watching me like a hawk, and I know he’ll be coming up here to make sure I don’t overdose.

A shiver wracks through me when I step deeper into the room and find nothing has changed. When I left five years ago, I cried all the way to the airport, and when we landed on the West Coast, I knew I should have done things differently.

With my parents.

With my schooling.

With Cassian.

Guilt has eaten at me for years, and even though I haven’t seen him yet, the dread I feel for what I did that night hasn’t left me. My father believed me, so did my mother, and when I realized what I’d said, it was too late.

In my bathroom, I turn on the shower and strip off my clothes. The hot spray stings as it hits my skin, but I don’t turn on the cold tap; I need to feel the pain to remind myself why I’m here. A quick glance at my toiletry bag that I set on the counter has me moving without a second thought, and I find what I’m looking for as the room fills with steam.

I’m nothing more than a blur in the mirror, and I inhale deeply, sniffing back the powder that’s kept me sane for most of my life. I tip my head back and close my eyes.

I didn’t choose to do this. It happened one night when I was vulnerable. When I lost the one woman who loved me unconditionally, I broke. Alcohol and drugs were easy to get when you had the money and grew up in a town where every kid had problems. I hid it well for a long while.

Until that night.

Until the moment I fell over the edge and hurt Cassian.

And the moment I lay my gaze on him again, I know forgiveness will not be something he’ll ever offer me. I wouldn’t ask it of him, but I know if he’s still around and I do see him again, all I can do is apologize for the mistake I made.

“Tell us where you’ve been, young lady?” Dad grits angrily. His fists clench, and I am almost certain he can smell the alcohol wafting from me. I shouldn’t have done what I did, but I couldn’t help it. It’s a poor excuse. Even I know that.

“Was it that boy that hangs out with you?” This comes from Mom, her concern clear. I glance down, noticing my clothes are torn. I wanted to avoid them, so I tried climbing the trellis that leads to my bedroom. Only, I fell, ripping my top.

It looks bad.

It looks…

“Kalyn Narro,” Dad utters with rage dripping on every syllable. “Are you drunk? Have you been taking drugs? I told you that Thorne boy was bad news, but you don’t listen to me.” His voice is loud, booming through the room, all the while making my head spin. “Tell me, young lady! Are you on drugs? Who gave them to you? Is that Thorne boy you’re hanging around with dealing drugs?”

Anger surges at his questions. I wish Cassian had touched me. I wish he had kissed me. Something. Anything. All I wanted was some indication I wasn’t being a stupid little girl, but he didn’t.

“Kalyn, is that Thorne boy giving you drugs?”

“Talk to us, Kalyn?”

“What happened?”

Too many questions are fired at me. Images dance in my mind. Cassian. His car. His goodbye. Even his words of encouragement didn’t hit home like they usually do. Not tonight.

“Kalyn, did he force you to take something?”

“I…”

Dad storms forward, gripping my arms and shaking me as if I were a rag doll. My head spins due to the alcohol and weed, and everything turns blurry. I want to go to my room, but the hold Dad has on my arms is like a vise, and I know I’m not going to escape anytime soon.

Not until I give him an answer.

“Tell me!” His demand rings in my ears. And I can’t find words. I’m not sure how to free myself from this interrogation. It’s all too much, and my eyes burn with tears. I need to get away, to hide. “Is it the Thorne boy who did this to you?”

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