CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
I understood the drug life. It wasn’t because I took drugs. It was because I had taken care of someone that did. Brian. Standing in front of Mandy’s room, all those memories flooded back. I had taken him to rehab twice. Jace took him the last time, and he had kept clean so far—so far. He might’ve relapsed, but I had no idea. A small knot formed in my throat as I realized that truth. Brian wasn’t my concern any longer. Mandy was.
When I left Tray’s car and went into the house earlier, I played nice. I stood around. I joined in with the fake banter, fake smiles, and fake politeness. The truth was that I wanted to tear upstairs and demand to know if it was true. I held back and when the girls started to leave, I shook my head. No, I didn’t need a ride. Yes, Tray was picking
