They say you can’t outrun a memory. They’re wrong. You can. For a while.I ran out of Blackthorn University on a Tuesday, rain soaking through my blazer, my scholarship letter ripped in half and clutched so tight the edges cut my palm. Adrian Cross was shouting my name behind me. I didn’t stop.The last thing I saw before I slammed the gate shut was his face—furious, guilty, and scared in a way I’d never seen before. The same face that had kissed me a week earlier in an empty classroom, like the world outside didn’t exist. That was the problem. The world did exist. And in that world, Liora Bennett didn’t get to be with Adrian Cross.I told myself I was done with him. Done with the rumors, the side-eyes, the way my name became a warning whispered in lecture halls. _Don’t be like her._ _Don’t trust him._ I told myself I was done with Blackthorn.What I didn’t tell myself was that some places don’t let you go.Two years later, a letter arrived with the Cross Family seal on it. An internship. My department. My university. My past, delivered in a wax-sealed envelope.I should have thrown it away. Instead, I packed a bag.Because the past is best left forgotten. But mine wasn’t finished with me yet.The prologue