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The memory of my parents’ funeral surfaces unbidden. Ten-year-old me in Uncle Marc’s arms. He promised to take care of me, to keep me safe. I’ve depended on him my whole life.

He’s the one I should trust.

My phone buzzes, startling me from my thoughts. It’s the girls chat.

I can’t do it. I can’t cut them out of my life. Sebastian. The way he looks at me, the tenderness in his touch, the vulnerability he’s shown… It can’t all be a lie. And Gemma, she’s done nothing to deserve that. It can’t be true, can it?

Everything hurts.

I hurl the phone across the room, and it smashes into the wall, shattering into pieces that clatter to the floor. The violence of the act shocks me, but there’s a bitter satisfaction too. Now I don’t have to talk to anyone.

Ignorance is bliss.

I hug my knees to my chest, feeling… nothing.

Silence blankets the room for minutes or hours. I can’t tell. Time loses all meaning when your world is crumbling around you.

A sharp knock rattles my door, startling me.

“Lil?”

Go away, please.

“It’s Jason.”

Did Uncle Marc tell him to check on me?

I squeeze my eyes shut, willing him to go away. I can’t face him now, can’t pretend to be the Lil they want me to be.

“We’re worried,” Jason says. “Your uncle called. Open the door, please.”

“Go away.” The words scrape my throat, jagged and harsh.

“Please, Lil,” Jason says softly from outside my door, his voice laced with worry.

“Leave me alone!” I scream, my voice cracking.

The door swings open, and Jason steps into my room uninvited. Damn me, I forgot to lock it.

His gaze darts to the shattered remains of my phone on the floor before landing on me huddled on the bed. “What happened?”

I turn away, hugging my knees tighter. “Nothing. Leave me alone.”

The bed dips as he sits beside me. “This isn’t nothing. Talk to me.”

“What do you care? You’re only here because Uncle Marc told you to check on me.”

“That’s not true. I care about you. We all do.”

I scoff. “Right. That’s why everyone’s been lying to me my whole life.”

“What are you talking about?”

“The Barrons. Uncle Marc said they hate us. But Gemma and Seb—” My voice cracks. “I thought… No. They wouldn’t do this.”

His hand rests on my shoulder, and I flinch but don’t shrug him off. “I know it’s hard, but your uncle’s right. I tried to warn you.”

I whirl to face him, anger flaring. “How would you know? You don’t know them like I do!”

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