Evelyn sat curled up in her room, knees pulled tight to her chest, the room dim except for the soft glow of her phone screen.
She couldn’t go back out there.
Not to the kitchen.
Not to those familiar faces.
Faces that knew.
Her stomach churned at the thought of sitting at that table, surrounded by people who had known all along. People who had laughed and shared drinks with Jules and Ronan—people who had watched her, too, probably thinking she was naive for not seeing it sooner.
She didn’t want comfort from them.
She needed distance. A voice outside of Ronan’s circle. Someone who wasn’t tangled in this mess.
Without thinking twice, she pulled up her messages and found Trey’s name.
Her thumbs hesitated for only a second before she started typing.
Evelyn: I need to talk to you. Som
