The problem with finding out you’ve been played is that you never know which memory to grieve first. Is it the one where you believed him? The one where he smiled like he hadn’t ruined you yet? Or the one where you thought maybe this was all just a game and you were winning? I stared at the paused frame of Camille mid-sentence, her mouth curled around the words, “Scarlett doesn’t even know what she is,” and I swear to God, I heard every organ in my body say girl... run.
But I didn’t run. I did what every irrational woman on the brink of either a psychotic break or a full-blown boss era does... I called Jynelle.
She showed up with orange juice, three hairpins that looked like weapons, and a taser that I’m pretty sure wasn’t legal. She didn’t ask questions. She just sat on the edge of my c
