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Sara sits cross-legged on the bed with her eyes closed in meditation. As she hears us enter, her eyes spring open and relief floods her features. “Oh my god,” she sighs, looking as though she’s on the brink of bursting into tears. “I’ve never been so happy to see you guys.”
The guys form a line at the end of her bed and I plant myself right in the middle of them and her gaze instantly falls to mine. “Winter,” she says, shaking her head in disbelief. “I’m so fucking sorry, you have no idea. This place is insane, but a small part of it is actually helpful. They put me on medication and I was able to see how much of a mess I was, and I realize just how fucking crazy I’d been. I … shit. This is harder than I thought,” she says, taking a deep breath and blowing out her cheeks as that same breath comes back out again. “I was infatuated with you, like obsessively infatuated.”
“Yeah,” I scoff. “I worked that much out.”
“Look, I—” she pauses, taking another breath while trying to figure out how to word what she’s clearly been needing to say. “You rejected me and I’d never experienced that before and that little thought of not being good enough for you was planted into my head and it was like cancer, constantly growing. I became obsessed with the idea of needing you to want me, and of course, why the hell would that ever happen? I was so awful and you already had these four guys pining for you. You didn’t need shallow bitches like me, and everything just spiraled from there. I couldn’t control myself. I couldn’t function without thinking about making you suffer while also wanting you. My head was such a mess, but I’m better now, and I just want you to know how sorry I am. I … could we maybe be—”
“Friends?” I shriek in horror, reading the words on her lips before they get a chance to come out. “You admitted to wanting to kill me, so understand me when I tell you that respectfully, I decline your offer. We’re here for one reason only. I have no interest in building any type of relationship with you. Sure, hearing your apology and knowing that you’re getting better is great. Hopefully you’ll stick with your medication and continue bettering yourself, but this is where the road ends between us.”
“I …” her tongue rolls over her bottom lip as her gaze drops to her hands. She nods slowly, the disappointment rolling off her in waves. “I understand, but that party … what I did. That was inexcusable and I will live with the weight of that for the rest of my life. I know my words will never make up for that, but—”
“No,” I cut her off. “You don’t get to throw your bullshit fucked-up mental health shit at me. Nothing will ever make it okay. You roofied me. You slipped me a drug and then raped me when I had absolutely no control. I couldn’t consent and I couldn’t even scream for help. People shrug it off as though a woman raping another woman isn’t such a big deal, but it is. It fucking is. You put your hands on me and no, it’s not you who has to live with the weight of that for the rest of your life, it’s me. I’m the one who was violated. I’m the one who closes my eyes at night and remembers the feeling of someone forcing themselves on me, of not being able to push you off, not thinking clearly. Your words will never make any of that okay, so I suggest you shut the fuck up with your bullshit meaningless apologies and tell us why the hell we’re here.”
“Sara,” Cruz says, drawing her attention back to him, not wanting her eyes on me when I inevitably lose control. “Where’s Knox?”
She swallows hard and flicks her gaze to Carver. “Will you stand by your end of the deal? If I tell you what I know, you’ll get me out of here?”
Carver nods as I reconsider why the hell we’re making deals with this bitch. I know we want Knox but is finding Knox more important than letting someone like Sara free into the world? “As long as your information is good, then we’re sweet on our deal, but if you ever come near Ravenwood Heights again, your ass will be coming right back here.”
Sara nods. “I swear,” she says, her eyes widening. “This place is a nightmare. I never want to come back here again. I’ll do anything.”
“Right, then tell us what we want to know.”
Cruz can’t help his anticipation and slowly creeps in closer to the end of Sara’s bed. “There’s a lot of things I need to come clean about,” she starts, her flickering gaze remaining on Carver’s as we all wait far too impatiently. “I was the one who trashed your house.”
