MIKE
The morning mist hadn't even cleared off the gravel driveway when I stepped out of the main house. The air was sharp, biting at my bare neck, but I barely felt the cold. I had a black travel mug of coffee gripped tightly in my hand, my large knuckles white against the metal. I hadn't slept. Not a single wink. Every time I closed my eyes, I kept seeing the pale, terrified expression on Eloise’s face when she crashed into Jake on Monday, and the absolute wall of ice she had built between us in the AP English classroom yesterday.
I leaned against the hood of my sleek black sports car, my golden-blonde hair messy, my piercing blue eyes locked onto the front door of the guest cottage. I was waiting.
At exactly 6:40 AM, the wooden door clicked open. Eloise stepped out, her canvas bac
