The fire painted Peyton’s face in shades of gold and shadow, flickering across the edges of her bruised cheek. Lila and Quinn leaned close, flanking her like shields against the noise of the clearing, but not intrusive—just enough to remind her she wasn’t alone.
“I can’t believe she did that,” Peyton murmured, still blinking, her voice a mixture of outrage and disbelief. “Six months? Three months after he left?”
Lila smirked, nudging her shoulder lightly. “Yep. And don’t look at me like I’m evil—I was sworn to secrecy.”
Quinn leaned back, arms crossed, grinning. “Safe is relative. But yes. Insider knowledge. Emotional weapons. You’re armed to the teeth, Peyton. You’re basically a one-woman intelligence agency of awkward, hilarious, and slightly tragic romance.”
Peyton couldn’t help the
