Irene's POV.
I stayed in my room most of the next day, trying to keep myself together.
Reagan’s words from the night before wouldn’t leave me alone. The way he had looked at me when he said he would hurt me so bad I’d hate myself. The way he had walked away like I was something dirty he needed to scrape off his hands. I kept replaying it, over and over, until my chest felt tight and my eyes burned.
My body still remembered everything. The soreness between my legs. The marks on my neck and thighs. The way he had taken me against that tree like he couldn’t control himself. I hated how much I still wanted him. I hated myself for it.
When evening came, I forced myself to go down for the meal. The dining hall was full and noisy. People laughed and talked like the world hadn’t shifted under
