HAYLEY
No. No. No.
My chest slams against my ribcage as I bolt down the hallways. Every molecule in my body refuses to accept the words of Ivy.
Axel is not a killer.
The thought hardens in my mind like it's being cauterized by fire. I turn the same corner Ivy went down, my sneakers slapping against the floor of the halls until I stumble out into the backyard.
As is common during lunch break, students fill up the entire area, hanging around in groups. I walk past a cluster of boys, carefully scanning the faces nearby, until I sight her again.
Ivy is seated on a bench with Lucas, under one of the apple trees by the edge of the yard. I don't bother contemplating the unusual sight of them together before I stride forward to where they sit.
“Listen, Ivy. You owe me a lot more than
