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I shoot upright, a scream lodged in my throat. “Why is this happening?” I wonder aloud. “What did I ever do to deserve this?”

Muffled voices filter into my room from the crack under the door. After a few minutes, I hear a door open and close, before the sound of the lock turning reaches me.

Followed by, “Emmy, can I come in?”

I groan out my permission for her to enter.

“Are you okay?” Stella asks, crossing the small space to my bed. She perches on the edge of it and reaches down, smoothing my sweaty hair away from my face.

“I-I don’t know.”

“What happened? You literally went from fine to on the floor in the span of a song.”

“St-Sterling.”

A fire lights in her blue eyes, making her look lethal. “What did he do? Do I need to kill him? Swear to God, I know how to get rid of a body, babe.”

“Um...”

“Just say the word. No one will ever find his sorry, no-good, rotten ass.”

“No,” I barely manage to croak the word as I shake my head. “No.”

“What did he do to you?”

I heave out a sad sigh. “Nothing more than I allowed.”

The admission nearly breaks me. It’s a reminder of how weak I am. How weak I’ve always been. I’ve been on this earth for eighteen years and spent a decade of them being abused at the hands of my stepbrother.

I quietly took his mistreatment, over and over, and the few times I tried to speak up, my pleas were cast aside as the whining of a bratty child.

I should have pushed harder. Tried harder.

But I didn’t. I let him victimize me. Over and over and over again. When he finally took it too far and I went to the authorities, I was all but laughed right out of town.

What would a fine young man like him want with a child like you?

Nice girls don’t tell lies. We thought you were a nice girl, Emmalyn. Don’t you want to be nice?

He’s got his whole life ahead of him, Emmalyn. Surely you don’t want to leave a dark mark on his future.

And yet, no one cares about the one he left on me. On my heart... my soul.

“No! Nope.” Stella sounds fierce, protective. “That doesn’t fly with me. Hedidsomething to you and I want—no, Ineedto know.”

“Just mind games.”

Stella stands from the bed. “What drawer are your jammies in?”

“Second from the top.”

She grabs a pair of flannel pants and a tank top and passes them both to me. “Get changed. I’ll be right back.”

I strip out of my wet party clothes but don’t put on my pajamas. I need a shower.

“What are you doing? Are you okay?” Stella asks as I step out of my room in only my undergarments.

“Just need a shower.”