Her eyes search mine, gauging my reaction. I grip my self-control with everything I have, desperate not to let her see how close I am to breaking.

Nausea rises in my throat. Every word she speaks is another knife in my gut, but I force myself to stay steady. She needs my strength now, not my rage.

"Did he…?" The words die in my throat, too terrified of the answer.

"No," she whispers, shaking her head. “He tried and got far enough before Claire walked in. She thought…" Her breath catches. "She thought I wanted it. Called me a two-faced whore. That was the end of our friendship."

Two names on my hit list now.

Her words feel like bullets. She's been carrying this alone, drowning in silence while I was blind to her pain. The rage inside me burns hotter than anything I've ever felt, even in my darkest moments at home.

"Did you tell anyone?" My voice barely holds together.

She shakes her head, tears falling freely now.

"My dad knew something was wrong," she says, breaking. "He kept asking me to talk to him, but I couldn't. I hadn't processed it myself. And the day he died… we fought. I told him to stay out of my life because I was so angry and overwhelmed." A sob tears from her throat. "Nate, the last thing I ever said to him was that I didn't need him. And then he was gone."

Her sobs rip through me like razors. I pull her close, holding her as tight as I dare without hurting her.

"Hey, no. You can’t do that to yourself, Len," I whisper into her hair, pressing a kiss to her crown. "Your dad loved you more than anything. Anyone could see that."

She pulls back slightly, wiping at her tears, but I catch them with my thumb, cradling her face. Her eyes meet mine, and I see it—the shadow of something more.

"That's not all, is it?" My voice stays low, steady, though my heart threatens to break through my ribs.

Please, let me be wrong.

Her lips tremble, her voice barely a whisper. "Evan took photos. Of me in that state. He threatened to send them to everyone at school if I told anyone."

The air leaves my lungs. A cold, dark rage settles in my chest, consuming everything else. He didn't just hurt her—he stole her voice, her power, her safety.

Evan doesn't know it yet, but he's just signed his death warrant.

51. The Alchemy Of Letting Go

CHAPTER 51

THE ALCHEMY OF LETTING GO

NORA