Page 85 of Manic

"I can't hide forever," she argues, her sage green eyes flashing with determination. "I need to get back to some kind of normal life."

I run a hand over my face, frustrated. "Normal? There's nothing normal about this situation. A full patch should be with you at all times."

Meghan rolls her eyes. "And what, hover over me while I'm making lattes? Come on, Tor. I'll be fine."

I open my mouth to argue further, but Starla clears her throat pointedly. "Maybe we should talk about this later," she suggests, glancing between us.

I clench my jaw, my frustration building. "Meghan, you're not thinking this through. Your father is unpredictable.Thinking you'll be fine is just..." I pause, searching for the right word, "It's stupid."

The moment the word leaves my lips, I know I've crossed a line.

Starla's eyes flash with anger.

"Hey, that was uncalled for," she snaps, her voice sharp enough to cut glass.

I turn to face her, my chest heaving. "I'm not going to apologize for being blunt. Someone needs to be the voice of damn reason around here."

Meghan rolls her eyes, and I can see the hurt beneath her annoyance.

It's our first real argument since she's been back, and it stings more than I expected.

"You know what?" Starla interjects, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "And to think I was trying to convince Meghan that she should tell you about Tindra ages ago."

The world stops spinning for a moment.

My eyes widen, and I feel a rush of heat flood my face.

"Wait," I growl, my voice dangerously low, "so you knew about my daughter and you didn't tell me?"

I can see Meghan tense, her eyes darting between Starla and me.

She knows I'm about to snap, and she's right.

Starla lifts her chin defiantly. "Of course I did. I'm Meghan's best friend."

The rage building inside me threatens to explode.

I've accepted a lot of things lately—Meghan's return, the revelation about Tindra—but this feels like a betrayal I can't swallow.

"And you didn't think I had a right to know?" I spit out, my hands clenching into fists at my sides.

Starla opens her mouth to respond, but Meghan steps between us, her hands raised placatingly. "Tor, please. It wasn't Starla's secret to tell."

I shake my head, trying to clear the red haze of anger clouding my vision. "No, it wasn't. It was yours, Meghan. And you chose to keep it from me for years."

The hurt in Meghan's eyes is like a knife to my gut, but I can't back down now.

This isn't just about Tindra anymore—it's about trust, about the foundation of whatever it is we're trying to build together.

I run a hand through my hair, my thoughts a chaotic whirlwind.

How many other secrets are there?

How many more surprises am I going to have to face?

"I need some air," I mutter, turning on my heel and striding toward the door.

I can hear Meghan calling after me, but I don't stop.

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