Page 67 of Blackwood

Tears sting but I refuse to let them fall.

Dr. Monroe’s voice is steady, low. “You can’t keep holding yourself together with rage, Bella. It’s not armor, it’s acid. And it’s eating you alive.”

♥♥♥

By the time I make it back to Wexley my head’s pounding and my tolerance for human interaction is at zero. The second I step into the Rosethorne Mansion suite, I kick off my heels and sigh.

Since Haley’s great-great-great-something grandmother founded Rosethorne Mansion, the university basically treats her like royalty, which means The Trifecta got a serious upgrade Sophomore year.

And when I say upgrade, I mean master suite.

Not theoh wow, this dorm has a private bathroomkind of master. I’m talking a full three-bedroom, two-bath, walk-in closet, velvet sectional, skyline-view type situation. Hardwood floors, chandelier lighting, and a full marble bar for “hydration.”

Technically it’s still considered campus housing, but it’s giving luxury penthouse with a side of estrogen frenzy.

Knox loves it because he has a key and an excuse to crash without guilt. Ellie loves it because the revolving door of Wall Street wannabes gives her a new ego boost every weekend. Honestly, I’m shocked she hasn’t been referred to Dr. Monroeyet. I’m sure he’d have plenty to say about her ever-evolving emotional exploration phase.

I toss my purse on the dresser and stretch, ready to take a hot shower and maybe pretend I didn’t just almost cry in front of a therapist when my phone buzzes.

@LucaWasHere

No mention of me in your little chat?

Tsk, Izzy. We both know better than that.

Keep pretending, keep playing brave,

But I’ll be the thought you can’t quite shave.

Therapy won’t fix what’s already mine.

You’ll bleed the truth to me, in time.

Your doctor listens, takes his notes,

But I hear more between your quotes.

Chapter 24

BELLA

Rosethorne Mansion – Wexley University

541 Days Since Zeke’s Death

“Ellie, I swear to God if you touch that curling iron one more time.”

“I just need to do one more piece, Hales!” Ellie shrieks, chasing a loose golden curl. “It’s frizzy!”

Haley laughs, lip gloss wand between her fingers. “We are already late El, we really have to go.”

I’m leaning in the bathroom doorway watching the soon-to-be cat fight unfold when my phone buzzes.

@LucaWasHere

Happy Cinco, Izzy. The end draws near.

Just days remain of your sophomore year.