But it’s not enough. Not with my insides shredding. Her words are poison I thought I’d built an immunity to. Right now, they’re too much. Everything’s too fucking much. Tears streak down my cheeks, blood pounding in my ears so rapidly I’m shocked I haven’t passed out.

My dad loved me. He wanted me. Roman’s safe. He cares.

I scan around my room, the only place I’ve considered mine in so long. I have no clue how long she was in here. What she might have taken. My heart lurches, and I spin for my closet. Dresses thrown, boxes gone through.

“Please, please, please.”

I drop to my knees and dig through the mess. A surge of relief fills me when I uncover my contingency bag in the corner. Right there but completely missed. I still yank on the zipper and then check the side pocket. A sob breaks out of me when I pull out the red velvet pouch. Feel the SD card. I also find the pink envelope I stowed away at the bottom, needing to keep it secure, too.

Then I scramble to my feet, gripping the strap while I tuck the pouch away. I grab my school bag off the floor before pulling out my phone.

Months ago, I asked Roman why he stays. Why he continues to be treated like shit when he deserves so much more. He answered by asking me the same thing. I blinked as tears pooled and had to look away from him to stop them from falling like they are now.

My go-to is I’m terrified of the unknown. Of finding myself in a worse situation than the one I’m surviving now. Or I could end up in one I don’t.

It’s not a lie but not the all-encompassing truth. Even though she’s broken me in ways I likely won’t ever completely heal from. Even if every emotional scar, she’s had some hand in. Deep down, my mom’s always been part of why I’ve stayed. Guilt or responsibility or love for the woman I wish she could be.

I never told Roman any reasons, but I didn’t need to. He knew. And there’s a card in an envelope in my bag where he told me his.

When I open my messages, I pause at the window. The overwhelm hits, the doubts and fears and what-ifs, but I find R and text him anyway. I’m not sure my reasons are enough anymore—if they can keep me here another second. If that’s the case, then at least one of Roman’s won’t matter either.

24

FOSTER

Now…

No one has spoken a word since Christian burst in, cut off the music, and demanded Felix sit.