Page 68 of From the Wreckage

Brielle

Meghan climbs out of the passenger seat of my SUV, pushing her sunglasses higher on her nose. “Good to be back, huh?”

I force a smile, tugging my backpack higher on my shoulder. “Yeah.”

It’s a sunny, gorgeous day. The campus is alive with energy—students hugging after a summer apart, laughing as they swap stories, music faintly spilling from someone’s portable speaker. Everything brims with hope for the future.

But none of it touches me. I feel like a stranger in a place I once belonged.

I don’t tell Meghan that. She’d just roll her eyes and call me a Debbie Downer. Instead, I follow her across the quad, past the buildings I’ve spent three years memorizing. Somehow, they all feel different now. Colder. Bland. Stripped of warmth.

We duck inside the library for coffee. The space is sleek and polished, but sterile—nothing like The Pine & Page with its mismatched mugs and shelves of secondhand books.

Meghan orders her usual caramel ribbon iced latte.

Without thinking, I order a pumpkin spice latte.

My hand closes around the cup, and for a heartbeat, I’m back in Silverpoint.

The memory of Everett sliding a coffee across the table toward me, his eyes steady, his voice grounding me after the terrifying incident with Joey.

Joey.

The name alone makes my stomach turn. The incident at The Pine & Page was the last straw. He wasn’t just stubborn—he was unhinged. But Everett… he erased all of it. He made me feel safe. Wanted. Whole.

I blink hard, blowing out a shaky breath. Don’t think about him. It’s over. He’s out of your life. Time to move on.

The thought nearly wrecks me.

Outside, the lawn is sun-dappled, students sprawled on the grass with their laptops or laughing in circles of friends. Meghan veers toward her building with a wave, and I paste on another fake smile before turning toward mine.

My first class of senior year. The last gen ed requirement standing between me and my degree: Introduction to Sociology. Not psych, but close enough to make my brain itch with familiarity.

I slip into the middle row, pulling out my notebook. The room hums with chatter and the shuffle of backpacks.

Footsteps grow closer and I glance up to see who it is—and freeze.

Golden hair. Blue eyes. A smile just a little too bright.

My chest tightens. Joey.

The air leaves my lungs in a rush. For an instant, I see the malice, sharp and bright, flashing in his eyes. But then he blinks, and it’s gone, hidden beneath his easy grin.

“Small world,” he says smoothly, sliding into the desk beside mine like it was always meant to be his. “Guess we’re stuck together, huh?”

My stomach knots. “What are you doing here?”

“Schedule change,” he says casually, dropping his bag onto the floor. “Needed the credit. Looks like fate decided to throw us back together.” He leans closer, his cologne too strong and suffocating. “Good to see you, Bri.”

I grip my pen until it nearly snaps, forcing my voice to stay even. “Don’t talk to me.”

He only chuckles, low and easy. “C’mon. No hard feelings, right? We’re in this class together now. Might as well make the best of it.”

I stare straight ahead, refusing to answer, every nerve screaming for this to be a bad dream. A nightmare I can wake up from.

But it’s not.

I blow out a shaky breath, clinging to the lifeline of the professor’s voice when he finally starts class, giving me a reprieve from having to deal with Joey. I grip my pen, my hand shaking as I take notes.

When class ends, he grins at me, walking me to the door. “Need a ride?” His smile is pure charm, but his eyes glint. “Or maybe a coffee? Like old times?”

“No.” The word comes out sharper than I intend, but I don’t care. I brush past him, my heart hammering.

His voice follows me, smooth as silk and twice as suffocating. “See you Wednesday, Bri. Bright and early.”

I don’t look back. Dread coils tight in my stomach, cold and unrelenting.

Everett’s absence is a hole I can’t fill, and Joey senses it. Without Everett, I’m exposed. Vulnerable. Alone.

And like the predator he is, Joey knows it.