Page 216 of Before We Were

My heart hammers against my ribs.

A drug deal gone wrong.

Someone kicked Evan's head in.

That someone could only be one person, and the thought makes me dizzy.

"Do they know who did it?" I ask, not sure I want to know the answer.

Camilla shrugs, a wicked smile playing on her lips. "I'm guessing whoever it was sent a pretty clear message, considering the state of him." She glances at me, her smile fading slightly. "You okay? You look like you've seen a ghost."

I force a weak smile. "Yeah, I'm fine. I just… I need to use the bathroom."

The world feels like it's tilting as I make my way across the grounds. This has Nate written all over it—the bruised knuckles, the vague explanations, the tension in his shoulders this morning when I'd asked where he was.

A drug deal gone wrong?

No. This feels personal. And Nate doesn't get involved unless it's personal.

The bathroom is a stark contrast to the bustling polo grounds—all marble surfaces and echoing silence, perfumed air heavy with whispered conversations and the click of designer heels. I let out a shaky breath as I wash my hands, studying my reflection. My cheeks are flushed from earlier, lipstick slightly faded like a secret I can't quite hide.

Keep it together

The air shifts, growing thick and suffocating. Through the mirror, Farrah appears behind me like a perfectly coiffed demon, her red lips curved in a smirk that doesn't reach her cold eyes.

"Well, if it isn't Eden's little train wrecker," she sneers, her voice bouncing off the marble walls.

My spine stiffens.

"Farrah." I keep my voice steady despite my racing heart.

She moves closer, claiming space like it's her birthright. Her manicured nails tap against the counter—click, click, click—each sound a tiny needle under my skin.

"You've been getting around quite a bit since you got here. Haven't you?" Her voice drips sweet poison.

I turn to face her, hands clenched to hide their trembling. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Her laugh cuts like broken glass. "Don't play dumb. It doesn't suit you." She pulls out her phone like drawing a weapon. "First Evan, then Jake, now Nate. Have you fucked both brothers yet?"

The words hit like a physical blow, stealing my breath.

"I know what you did last summer." Her eyes glitter with malice. "I didn't think you had it in you to put out like that."

She turns her phone around and there they are—the photos that have haunted my nightmares for a year, now weaponized in the hands of my worst enemy.

My stomach lurches.

She steps closer, the scent of her expensive perfume choking me. "Has Nate seen them too? Or maybe he doesn’t know about how easily you spread your legs for strangers." Another step forward, then a sharp shove that makes me stumble.

Her voice turns to ice. "You're so pathetic."

Tears burn behind my eyes, and her smile grows sharper.

"You going to cry?" she mocks. "You going to run and hide behind Nate every time things get tough?"

"Farrah, stop," I manage, hating how my voice trembles.

"Stop? Why?" Her laugh echoes off the walls. "You think Nate is yours to claim? He's not. And deep down, you know it. You've been nothing but a problem since you got here. And now? Now I'm going to fix it." She jabs a perfectly manicured finger into my chest, forcing me back. "You think this little damsel in distress act isn't going to get tiresome? As if Nate needs more drama in his already fucked up life. You're nothing but a little slut who can't handle reality."

---