Instead of answering Noah’s rambling, I round on Mason. “You weren’t going to tell me Noah was here the whole time?”

“Yeah, I was going to. He just happened to be in the washroom when I opened the door, and you kept talking and I got distracted with, you know, what you were saying,” he admits sheepishly. “But in my defense, I didn’t expect you to tell me you’re in witness protection.”

I glance between Mason and Noah. A part of me, the part that’s spent over a year running and hiding, is panicking. More people who know my secret means more people who are exposed to harm. But the bigger part of me, the part that always feels out of control, is relieved. Two of my best friends finally know. I don’t need to hide anymore, at least not from them. No matter what happens, if I stay here or leave, three of the people closest to me will know me, the whole me.

“What are you even doing here?” I ask Noah.

Mason answers for him. “Same reason you came; he was trying to convince me not to be mad at you.”

My heart warms as I look at Noah in awe. “We were all fighting and everything was going to shit. I figured I’d catch him before school, same as you. My mom dropped me off. But, come on, tell us about the witness protection thing, Amelia . . . if that’s even your real name.”

Mason and I exchange a look before Noah adds, “Yes, I know that’s not your real name. I just always wanted to say that in real life.”

My emotions are all bunched up, but a laugh escapes me. Leave it to Noah to make light of every situation, and right now, I’m extremely grateful for that.

“I guess we should sit down instead of standing in the hallway? It’s a long story,” I say, trying to sort through my emotions and thoughts. They clearly believe me, so that’s a good thing, and so far they don’t seem mad at me. They aren’t accusing me of lying and they’re not freaking out. If anything, they seem excited. I take it as a good sign as I follow Mason and Noah down the hall, all the while Noah’s guessing names and Mason’s occasionally throwing one in. They really aren’t mad, and a weight lifts off my chest. Is it really this easy?

As Mason and Noah sit on the sofa, my phone rings. It’s Aiden.

“Hey, where are you? Class is starting and you haven’t answered my texts.”

“I’m at Mason’s house with Noah. I guess we aren’t coming to school today?” I reply, and Noah gives me a big thumbs-up with a grin, apparently on board with that plan. I’ve missed so much school since winter break ended that at this point I feel like it hardly matters, though I really should be getting back on track if I want to graduate.