(Matthew’s POV)
I just knew she would take the long route.
I had been watching Jenna Jones long enough to know her patterns the way I knew code. She was methodical and predictable.
A woman who made the same careful choices every single day because careful choices felt safe.
But safe was boring. And safe was why she was dying slowly in that relationship with a man who didn’t deserve the air she breathed.
I had gone to the media lab instead of the locker room, as our coach had ordered, and then positioned myself properly, angling the desk chair so that the window behind me caught the corridor reflection perfectly.
It was an old trick I’d learnt from spending time being invisible.
My mind flashed to the first time I saw her six months ago.
I’d been half asleep, taking out the trash
