CHAPTER FOUR

"How was your date?" Stella glanced up from her phone as I stepped into the living room.

"He stood me up." I unbuttoned my coat, trying to ignore the unsteady tremor in my hands as I hung it on the brass tree by the door.

It’s just the cold. Not the mugging. Not the way I froze on the porch, unable to move, unable to breathe. Stop. Don’t go there.

Stella’s eyes widened. “No way. What a jerk.”

A small smile tugged at my lips. Stella rarely swore, so it always caught me off guard when she did.

"It’s fine. I dodged a bullet. Honestly, have you seen his dating app picture? That ridiculous fish. I should’ve known better.” I kicked off my shoes and peeled off my gloves, keeping my gaze down as I tried to suck in a steady breath.

It hadn't taken long to wrestle the gun away from the guy, but those few seconds—where I'd been vulnerable, powerless—had been enough.

Memories I’d buried long ago started clawing their way back to the surface. The rough press of wood against my back. The stench of stale breath too close to my face.

Hands—

“Lena.”

I flinched, nearly knocking over the coat tree.

I’d held it together through the entire ordeal, through the police questioning, through the train ride home. But now, standing safely in my own house, the weight of it all crashed down on me.

My pulse pounded in my ears, my stomach twisted with nausea, and my limbs suddenly felt too heavy to hold me up. The only thing keeping me steady was Stella’s presence.

Her forehead creased with concern. “Are you okay? You’ve been zoning out for five minutes. I called your name twice.”

"Yep." I plastered on an overly bright smile. "Just zoned out. Plotting ways to get even with Todd."

In reality, I couldn’t care less about that loser, but Stella didn’t need to know that.

She tilted her head slightly, those sharp, catlike green eyes narrowing in suspicion. As a fashion blogger and influencer, she spent ninety percent of her time glued to her phone, but people seriously underestimated how much she noticed.

"You wouldn’t waste another second on that guy," she said flatly.

Alright, there was observant, and then there was straight-up eerie. Maybe all those disgusting wheatgrass smoothies she swore by had given her some kind of mind-reading abilities.

"Seriously, I’m fine." I cranked up the intensity of my smile. I had no problem confiding in my friends when they could actually do something about a problem, but otherwise, there was no point in making them worry.

"All I want right now is to throw on a movie, demolish a pint of ice cream, and erase Todd the Toad from my memory."

A flicker of doubt lingered in Stella’s gaze, but thankfully, she let it go. "We still have some salted caramel ice cream in the freezer," she offered. "How about a Legally Blonde rewatch while we finish it?"

"Always." Watching Elle Woods take names and prove people wrong never got old. "I’m gonna grab a shower first. You handle whatever you need to do."

A flicker of doubt lingered in Stella’s gaze, but thankfully, she didn’t push. "We still have a pint of salted caramel ice cream," she said. "Up for a Legally Blonde rewatch while we finish it?"

"Always." Watching Elle Woods strut in and prove everyone wrong never got old. "I’m gonna grab a shower first. You do whatever you need to do."

"Sorting through my DMs," she groaned. "Not that I’ll ever get through them all."

"You know you don’t have to respond to every single one, right?"

Stella had hundreds of thousands of followers. I couldn’t even begin to imagine how many messages flooded her inbox every day.

"I want to. Unless they’re creeps." She waved a dismissive hand. "Go do your thing. I’ll be here."

As Stella buried herself back in her phone, I slipped into our shared bathroom and turned on the shower, my forced smile melting away.

I waited for the steam to thicken, filling the room in dense clouds, before stepping under the scalding spray. Pressing my forehead against the cool, slick tile, I let the rhythmic drum of water try—and fail—to wash away the memories clawing their way to the surface.

Senior year. Alastair. Max. Adeline—

Stop.

"Pull it together, Lena," I muttered under my breath, voice sharp.

I wasn’t some powerless, naive girl trapped in Ohio anymore.

I was in an entirely different state, standing on the verge of everything I had ever wanted.

Wealth. Independence. Stability.

And I’d be damned if I let anyone rip that away from me.