Grace's POV.
Rhyder held me tight against his body as teared streamed endlessly down my face, burning the back of my throat.
Miserable sobs tore through my body at almost perfectly timed intervals.
"It's okay, Grace. I'm here. I've got you... I'm not going anywhere."
Rhyder's voice was comforting - for the most part, as he gently stroked his fingers through my hair over and over again.
There was a part of me that felt like his words of comfort were a nail being drug along a blackboard: scratching at the very edges of my mind, making me wince inwardly.
I was sad.
Of course I was sad.
How could I not be? After realizing that my entire friendship with Meghan had been a lie.
I loved her like a sister. Tate loved her like a mother. She was part of the little family that we had created
