Page 22 of Who Let The Wolves Out?

“All of it,” I say. “Probably all of it.”

Her fingers twist in her lap. “I thought I could come here and forget. Reset. But the second I saw her... it was like being back in that apartment. That moment. Everything just slammed into me again.”

I want to touch her. To pull her close and take it all away. But I don’t. Not yet.

“You don’t have to be okay right now,” I say. “You just have to breathe.”

She closes her eyes and nods.

Back in the mess hall, Melody is laughing with Julie like she’s never wrecked a life. I resist the urge to growl.

Literally.

Alice reappears eventually. Not smiling. But standing.

Strong in that quiet way she has.

I stick close for the rest of the morning.

No jokes. No teasing. Just presence.

Because maybe that’s what she needs more than anything right now.

Someone who stays.

CHAPTER 9

ALICE

Iavoid the mess hall all morning.

I lie and tell Julie I have inventory to check. I fake a phone call near the lake. I alphabetize paintbrushes in the art shed even though they weren’t out of order.

Anything to not seeher.

But Melody’s laugh echoes anyway—light and lilting and so achingly familiar that it cuts through my chest like piano wire. It’s like time hasn’t passed at all. Like I’m still twenty-four and stupidly hopeful and oblivious to the storm brewing two feet from my own pillow.

I tell myself I’m being mature. That I don’t owe her anything.

And then Jason finds me.

He stays quiet at firstt. Just stands there, arms crossed, watching me pretend the camp supply list is written in ancient runes.

“You hiding or strategizing?” he asks finally.

I stiffen. “Neither.”

“Hmm.” He leans on the doorframe. “Because it kinda looks like you’re hiding.”

I don’t respond.

Jason pushes off the frame and steps inside. His presence fills the little shed instantly—loud and warm and too much in the way I’ve gotten used to liking.

“You don’t have to talk to her,” he says gently. “But... I think you want to.”

I don’t answer.

He moves closer, voice softer. “You’re not scared of her. You’re scared of what she might still mean to you.”

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