18 The way he’d left things with Abigail bothered him. Mateo turned in the top bunk and rested his head on his arm. No, this was a good thing. Melissa’s observations yesterday were right. His devotion to his tutor had been obvious to everyone but her, and he wanted to keep it that way. Walking away from Abigail tonight was a huge part of his new turning point. He shouldn’t undermine his progress by running back to her. Then why was he swinging his legs over the iron bars? Why was he pulling on his shoes and pocketing his phone? Mateo told himself he just needed to check on her, just needed to make sure that she was alright, that somebody—even the sleazy fiancé—was with her. Abigail’s father, whom she hadn’t seen or spoken to in ten years, had just been admitted to the hospital. He wou

