Once I turn the corner toward home, I realize it wasn’t even me I should have been worrying about. I can hear Serena shrieking at someone, and I think it’s coming from inside my apartment. Despite everything I just learned about her, I’m not going to stand here while someone attacks her or whatever is going on in there. I break into a run and book it the rest of the way home, crossing paths with my dad coming out of the house once I get there.
“What’s going on up there?” he asks me, worry and panic flooding his expression.
“I don’t even know, but that sounds like Serena.”
“Yeah,” he agrees. “And someone else. Another woman, from the sound of it. Maybe your mate?”
Oh no. This can’t be happening. In an instant, I’ve stopped caring about what might be going on with Serena, and that worry
