Maya POV
An unease settles low in my stomach.
That’s Luther’s car, I whisper under my breath, certain for a moment.
But what would he be doing here? I shake my head quickly, almost laughing at myself. I’m imagining things. Definitely imagining things.
“Luther? Here? Nah, nah…” a short laugh escapes me, dry and nervous.
I rub my palms against my thighs as if that’ll push the thoughts away. “Maya, Maya,” I murmured, like scolding myself. “We have a lot to work on. This overthinking, this imagining—it has to stop. The year’s almost over.”
As for Luther… I left him behind years ago. If life has any justice, he should be dead by now.
He was kind in ways, sure, but he was also cruel. Evil and cocky.
A tightness presses against my chest as the memories edge closer. He made me strip away
