2
Sienna.
I barely slept that night.
It wasn’t guilt, not really. Not at first. The memories just wouldn’t leave me alone. I lay in bed, sheets twisted around my body, replaying every second in Dr. Wolfe’s office—how rough it was, how desperate, the way I’d gasped his name into the empty building, how I’d let him take me like I wasn’t scared of anything. Every time I closed my eyes, I felt him again. His hands, his mouth, the scrape of his stubble against my neck. The look on his face when he finally let go.
I didn’t want to forget. But by morning, doubt seeped in. What the hell was I doing?
I kept my head down all day, moving through classes in a daze. People talked around me, but it was just noise. I barely touched my coffee. I was so sure everyone could see it on my face—what I’d d
