Page 23 of Who Let The Wolves Out?

That breaks something in me.

I press a hand to my stomach. “It’s easier to pretend she never existed.”

“But she did,” Jason says. “She mattered.”

I whisper, “She mattered too much.”

He doesn’t say anything.

Doesn’t have to.

Because hegetsit. The ache of being hurt by someone who saw the inside of you—who held it in their hands and still let it shatter.

Jason steps closer. “Whatever happened... it doesn’t own you anymore.”

I shake my head. “She won’t care.”

“She might surprise you.”

I look up at him then. “And if she doesn’t?”

He shrugs. “Then I’ll be waiting outside ready to punch a guest lecturer.”

I let out a small, broken laugh. “Please don’t get banned from camp.”

Jason smiles. “No promises.”

I find Melody by the canoe racks.

She’s crouched, refastening a strap on her hiking boot, completely unaware that my heart is hammering against my ribs like a caged thing.

She stands just as I reach her.

And freezes.

Her smile falters. “Alice.”

Her voice. God. I forgot how soft it was when she wasn’t performing. It knocks the air right out of me.

I fold my arms across my chest. “Did you know I was here?”

“No,” she says quickly. “I swear. Julie reached out through the network. I had no idea until this morning. I?—”

She stops. Studies me.

“You look good.”

I shrug. “Camp lighting’s flattering.”

She smiles at that. Hesitant.

There’s a long silence.

Then I say, “I’m not here to fight.”

Melody nods. “Me either.”

But I can’t stop the words from spilling out.

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