The days after Lila’s phone call felt like danger lurking around. Damien and I were trying, really trying, but every time things started to feel normal again, something small would remind me that the outside world was still circling, waiting for a crack to widen.
That afternoon, I had a late lecture on campus. I was walking across the quad toward the library, backpack slung over one shoulder, when I felt that familiar prickling sensation on the back of my neck. Someone was watching me. I turned and my stomach dropped.
Marcus was leaning against a tree near the pathway, hands in his pockets, wearing that same smug, entitled smirk he used to give me when we were kids. He looked older, rougher around the edges, but the look in his eyes was exactly the same, possessive and bitter. I kept wal
