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Tears threaten, and I swallow hard against them, past a lump that’s growing larger by the second. A small sound—half whimper, half moan—escapes despite my best efforts to stifle it.

“Tate.” It’s rough. Urgent. Large hands squeeze mine, not painfully, but enough to anchor me to the present. “Tatum. Are you with me?”

I blink away a sheen of creeping moisture to meet Erik’s concerned gaze. He’s leaning towards me, his face less than a foot from mine, his forehead creased and brows drawn into a V. “Tate,” he repeats, more gently this time. “We can end this now. Talk about the rest of it later. It’s okay.”

Though I’m desperately tempted to take him up on his offer, I know I can’t. Not if Daniel is the mastermind behind this. Not if I have any information that can help make sure this nightmare of a game doesn’t happen again.

“No, it’s okay,” I force myself to say. “You need to know everything. Not tomorrow, but now.”

“She’s right,” Cruz agrees from the screen on the wall. “It’s not my call, of course. But something like this… time is of the essence.”

“One day won’t make a difference,” Erik retorts. There’s an edge to his tone I haven’t heard before. “Tatum’s been through enough already. She doesn’t need to push herself to do more?—”

“I want to,” I insist as I give Erik’s hands a small squeeze. I try to sound convincing as I add, “It’s alright. Really. It was just the shock… But I can handle this.”

Erik flashes me a doubtful expression. Then he says gently, “Tate. No one would judge you. I promise.”

“He’s right,” Niall adds. Compassion is written all over his face. “We understand how difficult this is for you.”

“Maybe we should ask Sarah to come in,” suggests Matt. “Just for some extra support.” Glancing at me, he explains, “Sarah’s a counselor. So she might be able to help.”

Humiliation washes over me at the thought. A woman I just met, having to hold my hand because I can’t manage to talk about my ex boyfriend? “It’s fine,” I insist. “You don’t need to ask Sarah to come in.”

And I need to stop being a baby. Suck it up. Smell the stinky feet, as my mom used to say.

So I take a steadying breath and let it out slowly. Then again. I release Erik’s hands—reluctantly—and flex my stiff fingers. I set my shoulders and lift my chin.

“I was working at a high school in Albany,” I start. “Teaching science. Biology, mostly, and a few earth science classes when they were short staffed. Then last year, a new math teacher started there. Daniel White. He seemed nice enough, so when he asked me out on a date, I agreed.”

Pausing, all I can hear is the faint sound of Matt’s hands moving over his keyboard. Erik’s gaze is still fixed on mine, his worry a visible thing.

“How long did you date?” Niall asks.

“Less than three months,” I tell him. “Which makes everything that happened after seem even crazier. We probably went out maybe… ten times? Not even once a week. When I told him I didn’t see a future between us, I didn’t really think he’d care that much. We just weren’t that serious.”

“Was there a reason you ended things?” Niall asks.

My chest tightens. “Yes. I started noticing red flags after the first month or so. He’d get jealous if another man looked at me. Or if he thought a server paid me too much attention. At first, I tried to overlook it.” I snort softly. “Stupid, I know. Buthere was this math teacher, so polite, everyone at work liked him… I thought maybe I was overreacting. Reading the situation wrong.”

With another deep breath and exhale, I continue. “But then he started to get controlling. Making comments about what I wore; implying that my shirt was too low cut or my jeans were too tight.”

Erik’s jaw goes tight. He mutters, “What an asshole.”

“He was. At that point, I was trying to figure out how to end things without making it awkward at work. We worked in a pretty big school, but still, we ran into each other nearly every day. So I had this idea that I’d put some distance between us. Kind of… ease into a breakup. I know it was cowardly?—”

“It wasn’t,” Erik interjects. “You were in a tough situation. There’s no perfect way to handle something like that.”

“I guess.” I give a little shrug. “But then I caught him checking my phone. I’d left it in my classroom while I went to grab something from the copy room. When I came back, there was Daniel, reading my texts. I never gave him my passcode, but he must have seen me enter it. I should have been more careful, I guess. But you don’t think about it when you’re with friends, you know? That you need to hide your passcode.”

Erik’s features go hard. A muscle in his jaw works. “No. You shouldn’t have to think about it when you’re with people you trust.”

Like Erik. I know without question—despite the short time I’ve known him—that Erik would never invade my privacy like that. Just like I know in my gut that he’d never,everimply that because I’m showing a hint of cleavage that I look easy, like Daniel did.

“I wasn’t going to make a scene at work, but I broke up with Daniel that night,” I say. “I was polite about it; just said I didn’tsee a future with him. He wasn’t happy about it, but he seemed to take it okay. Until…”

“Until?” Niall asks.

“Until he started messing with me a couple weeks later. I couldn’t prove it was him, of course. But there wasn’t anyone else I could think of who’d be angry enough to—” My stomach twists. Lurches. As the memories resurge, nausea rises along with them.