I hug her back, but I don’t speak because I have no idea what to say or how to say it.

I didn’t know Jules was hurting the way she must have been, I didn’t know she felt so alone or overwhelmed. I was judgmental and assumed she began drinking heavier because she simply felt like partying.

She always seemed happy, but maybe I should have seen through her facade since I’m so good at hiding myself.

My limbs begin to tingle, an uncomfortable sense of desperation overtaking me, only I don’t know what to do about it, so I stand there and let Cali cry until she’s ready to pause.

When she pulls back, she shakes her head, grabs my hand and offers a small wave to my driver.

He steps onto the curb with us, and I freeze, gently pulling my hand free from Cali’s, stepping closer to him.

“I don’t need a fucking babysitter. You are not following me inside,” I hiss.

Charles frowns, hitting the alarm button on the remote. “I’ve been driving for the twins’ father for five years, beautiful. How do you think their daughter knew about you and Anthony?” He lifts a brow angrily. “I’ll go inside if I damn well please.”

I suck in a quick breath and he scoffs, shaking his head.

He steps around us and I follow behind him with a frown, but I quickly forget about him and focus on my friend.

As we walk through the front door, someone begins to shout, and as we come around the corner, we witness Amy being thrown around by her mom, the photo on the wall behind her swaying, but it’s caught by another student before it falls on top of her.

Mrs. Marino picks up a pile of roses from the floor and heaves them at her daughter, blood dripping down her arms as she cries hysterically.

Amy stands there, frozen, as Dax steps toward Mrs. Marino, trying to soothe her, but she lashes out at him, too.

“This is all your fault,” she cries hysterically, her body beginning to sag to the floor, but Dax catches her, lowering with her, and she wails, punching at his chest as he tries not to lose complete control himself.

But his tears fall, his eyes already swollen and puffy.

“Get away from me!” she cries, breaking before us all. “How am I supposed to look at you every day?!” she wails, her body slumping more. “My baby. My little girl.” She completely breaks.

Tears pour from Amy’s eyes, but she says nothing, her hands frozen flat on the wall, pieces of flower and stem stuck to the front of her.