Sienna.
I sat up in bed, groggy and sore in that satisfying way that only came from a night tangled up with Adrian. The light on my phone blinked insistently of one new message, subject line blank, the sender a string of nonsense letters.
I opened it, still half asleep. It was just one line of text with no greeting or signature:
Do you think no one sees you?
And then, below that was an attached photo.
My breath caught, everything in me turning to ice.
The picture was grainy, shot through the window of Adrian’s car—my face, flushed and reckless, straddling him in the front seat, his hands on my bare waist. My hair wild, his mouth open. It was so clearly us. There was no way to explain it away.
I scrolled down, pulse thudding in my ears.
“One word from me and your golden girl reputat
