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As if summoned by name, not that I would ever call him Slim-Jim anything, Ashton was on the caller ID.

I had a quick meeting of the minds where one part of me was already whispering, Silence can be a form of cruelty.

Just answer. Get it over with. Be clear about the next step, then end the call.

And the other? Was screaming at me to ignore, ignore, ignore like it was a fire drill.

Let it go to voicemail. Protect your peace.

I walked over and took the phone from Ari. I hesitated and then answered, aware I had an audience.

“Hey.”

Cloe tilted her head, trying to determine which version of me was answering the phone. Ari pretended to stay busy on hers. Neither of them said anything, but Roxxi eyed me as she prepped herself a smoothie.

“Hey,” Ashton said on the other end. “Thanks for picking up. I wasn’t sure you would.”

“Why wouldn’t I answer?”

“Because I know you probably don’t want to talk to me. I just needed to hear your voice. I’ll be out again today. I’m back at my dad’s. He’s… going through something.”

I hadn’t even known he was absent yesterday, let alone clear across town again.

“Is he alright?” I was genuinely concerned. Ashton’s dad was a teddy bear of a man, the kind who always made me feel welcome, no matter what was going on between me and his son.

“He’ll be fine. I’ve been with him since yesterday, staying through the weekend.”

Cloe slipped past me to the fridge and grabbed the magnetic notepad we used for grocery lists, scribbled something down, and walked over like she was serving a court summons.

Put him on speaker.

I gave her an amused look, but pressed the button anyway, holding the phone out for them all to hear.

“If there’s anything I can do to help, let me know, okay?” I offered.

“You’re so sweet,” he replied softly. “I know you’re heading back to see your family tonight. I’ll be back on Monday. Can we talk then? Just us? I was thinking we could grab lunch at the bistro. The one with the string lights and that weird lavender lemonade you always order.”

“Sure,” I agreed readily.

There was a discussion we had to have and doing it in person had always been the way I wanted to end this. Cloe returned to her coffee but flipped the notepad over and started writing again.

“I want to explain myself without any excuses,” Ashton continued. “I fucked up, Sanj. I got in my own head and let that ruin something good, but hearing your melodic voice now…” He exhaled hard, like it physically pained him to keep talking. “It makes me feel like an even bigger asshole.”

“Melodic?” Roxxi mouthed, turning away to smother a laugh.

Ari made a face that conveyed her ick, but quickly smoothed it out and went back to pretending she was doing something on her phone.

“I’m sorry again,” Ashton went on. “For everything. For yelling. For not hearing you out. For whatever this mess has become. You didn’t deserve that, sweet girl.”

I wasn’t remotely sweet, but he was. Dense at times and more emotional than I was used to, but his heart was in the right place. The problem was, I wasn’t the girl for him. Ashton was somewhere in the green, and I had a thing for shades of red that made me feel like gold. “We’ll talk Monday, Ash.”

There was a pause on his end. “Can we still keep in touch before then? Text me at least. The Hunt’s getting closer, and I… I would feel better being in contact with you.”

“Sure,” I said after a beat. “We can do that.”

“Okay.” His voice softened. “Monday?”

“Yeah. Monday.”

I ended the call before I could overthink, as was my specialty, the phone screen fading to black in my hand. Cloe tapped her pen against the notepad once before tearing the page off and sliding it toward me.

“Tiffany’s is the bistro he was referring to. Lunch on Monday. That’s the address.”

“Is that what you were writing this whole time?”

“Sanj, last night you told us you were going to break up with him. None of us knows for sure how he’s going to react.”

I stared at her, then glanced down at the perfectly neat handwriting that spelled out the bistro’s name, address, and even a time slot suggestion in parentheses.

“She’s not wrong,” Ari added gently, like she wanted to be the voice of balance but couldn’t in good conscience disagree. “We just want you safe. Especially with everything going on.”

Roxxi made a face. “Exactly. I’ve seen this show before, and for the record, he doesn’t take it well.”

“Guys, it’s not like I’m breaking up with a mob boss.”

“No,” Cloe agreed, deadpan. “You’re breaking up with a college jock, and that’s probably worse. So you’re location will be on, you’ll send a check-in text and maybe consider a safe word.”

Roxxi grinned. “Make it something fun. Slim-Jim, perhaps?”

Ari laughed, and I let myself crack a smile. My grin faded just as fast when I thought about how I was going to have to look Ashton in the face and dismantle whatever future he still thought we had, destroying all the silver lining in his head.

I walked to the sink and rinsed my mug, the warmth of the coffee too heavy in my stomach.

“Well, that’s one person down,” I muttered. “Have any of you talked to Layla? I know you saw her, Ari, but has anyone actually spoken to her since the diner?”

“I texted after I saw her with Sarah. She hasn’t read it.”

“She’s been MIA from our old group chat, too,” Cloe divulged, pulling out her phone and thumbing through messages. “That’s abnormal for her.”

“It’s not entirely unlike her either,” Roxxi pointed out, slipping her phone into her bag.

“After I all but told her to choke on her apology, she’s reacting accordingly.

You know how she gets when her feelings are hurt, or she doesn’t like what someone says to her.

She disappears and gives the silent treatment like we’re in high school.

Her mother was a therapist. You’d think the girl would be wrapped a bit tighter.

Better control of her emotions or something. ”

Cloe moved to wash her mug out. “You know what I’ve been thinking about since I woke up? Her hanging out with Sarah, and then you told us Ashton was talking to her too. That’s not a good recipe in my opinion, and you know I don’t do coincidences.”

“Let’s head out,” Roxxi said, adjusting the straps on her bag. “And the three of them together is like a bad strain of an STD.”

Ari giggled and followed her to the door.

None of that sounded as wrong as it should’ve. The Sarah connection made my stomach twist. Add Layla’s recent mood swings and Ashton’s sketchy behavior to the mix, and it felt like something was brewing.

Not drama or girl-code violations, but something uglier.

Especially now that I knew Roxxi had been the reason Sarah got a new nose.

I told myself we might be overreacting, but the timing of everything was too suspicious to ignore.

I did another sweep to make sure I had everything.

Phone, bags, keys, backup stick of lip balm, brass knuckle keychain from Roxxi, and then trailed after them.

The morning air was crisp, sharp against my cheeks as I took a deep breath to steady myself.

I caught sight of the neighbor’s Yorkie sitting on the stoop in a doggy sweater, silent as a church mouse. Where was Mrs. Strode? Our elderly neighbor was usually never far from her companion.

Arianna followed my gaze. “Judith is outside alone?”

Roxxi glanced over at the dog. “I thought its name was Pearl.”

Ari shook her head slowly. “No, it’s definitely Judith.”

Cloe shrugged as she hit the unlock button on her fob. “It’s cold out here. She probably wants her to do her business solo.”

We all piled in, the car warm from her remote start. I really needed to get myself one of these. The soft scent of cashmere hung in the air from the diffuser on the mirror. Roxxi sat in the front passenger seat with her giant thermos she’d loaded with a smoothie. I sat in the back beside Arianna.

For a while, the car was silent with only the gentle hum of the road beneath the tires, Roxxi sipping from her straw like it was fueling her soul, and the occasional tap of Cloe’s manicured fingers adjusting the controls.

My mind was on everything and nothing all at once, floating in a space where you feel like you’re falling but your feet are still planted.

“I think the more Marked the better,” Ari stated without pretense.

Cloe glanced at her in the rearview mirror. Roxxi turned in her seat.

“Elaborate.”

“It’s just… in slasher movies, they go after people one by one or in tight groups. It’s not like they can pick off everyone at once.”

“Are you seriously applying horror movie ethics to this?” Roxxi questioned with a laugh.

Ari shrugged, tugging at the hem of her sleeve, her cheeks tinged pink. “Ever since Layla brought it up, it’s all I’ve been able to think about. Statistically, the odds are in our favor.”

“Unless we’re dealing with a copycat freak actually taking notes from horror flicks,” Cloe reasoned, eyes on the road. “Then we’re all screwed. Cue the creepy soundtrack and start working on your final monologues.”

“On that topic,” I toyed with a damp strand of hair. “What’s your favorite scary movie?”

Roxxi perked up instantly, flashing a grin. “Easy. The Blair Witch Project. That was found footage done right. You don’t even see the monster, and it’s still so ominous. That whole ‘lost in the woods, no escape, something’s watching’ vibe? Classic.”

Cloe gave a slow nod, eyes still on the road.

“I have to go with Creep. That one hit way too close to home. A guy who gets that close without setting off red flags? Terrifying. You keep giving him the benefit of the doubt and then—boom. You’re dead.

” She shivered a little, then rolled her shoulders like she was trying to shake it off physically.