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That earned a quiet huff of a laugh from his end. “Definitely easier said than done. We’ve got a handful of hours before the countdown is off, and the Huntsmen are already five steps ahead.”

“Then maybe we need to start thinking ten steps ahead.” I ran a hand through my hair.

“I’ll take your directive on that then,” he joked. “You’re coming back today, right? Do you want to meet up? I miss you.”

I forced a small smile, even though he couldn’t see it. “I’m sorry, I need to get home and finish my paper due tomorrow.”

That wasn’t a lie. I had to get this damn assignment done before midnight.

“Oh.” The disappointment in his voice was there, clear as day.

“I mean, I’ll see you in the morning too, but… that doesn’t count,” I said, the words coming out quicker than I meant.

“Are we still on for lunch tomorrow?”

“We’re still on.” I was trying not to dwell on that too much, because I knew what this outing meant for us.

“Good. Just text me later if anything happens, and let me know when you’ve made it back.

“You too, and I will. Bye.”

There was a small moment of silence, long enough to feel intentional.

“Bye, beautiful. Love you.”

My mouth parted like maybe something would come out, but all I could hear was the echo of his voice and the roaring static that filled the spaces between the syllables. We’d never said that to one another. Not even by accident. Maybe if I’d heard it sooner, it would’ve meant something different.

Now it made my chest ache with guilt. I hit end on the call and sat there for a moment, pretending I hadn’t heard him.

I flopped back onto the bed, eyes on the ceiling. Only twenty minutes had passed since I’d checked the time.

Twenty minutes since that call forced me out of the safest place I’d been in days and shoved me right back into the cycle of drama that was Crowsfell.

My fingers moved on autopilot. I dropped texts in both group chats, asking if anyone was up.

No clue if they were sleeping through the storm or just avoiding it altogether.

Then I tapped into my thread with Brittany--still nothing.

My message sat there, unread, or maybe read, but with her receipts off, which wasn’t like her.

I sighed and went back into the Marked chat.

The video was still pinned and steadily climbing in views.

The reactions were starting to trickle in now.

Most thought, like me, that it was fake.

A few argued it couldn’t be. No one mentioned who the girl was by name.

Someone posted a blurred screenshot of her bound wrists.

Someone else made a joke about Hellraiser cosplay gone wrong.

Beneath it all, the original caption held steady like a curse.

? ? TEO ??????

Happy Hunting.

What did TEO even mean? I flopped back down and started counting the hours until brunch with the Vosses.

Was that what Ryder meant when he said he’d see me soon?

We only had a few hours of freedom left.

Monday meant going back to business as usual, only nothing was remotely the same, and The Hunt would be in full swing.

I had plenty to focus on outside of that.

I wasn’t sure how I was going to handle things with Ryder, though.

It should be easy.

I had been pretending for years.

But that was before he had his mouth and fingers on me, in me, before I begged him not to stop.

Before we said things that couldn’t be unsaid.

He wouldn’t struggle like I would. He’d gone to a party his ex-hosted, and I was positive his current girlfriend had been there too.

The same girlfriend I saw wrapped around him like a second skin before we came back home.

I’d bet anything he didn’t avoid her, and he hadn’t broken up with her.

That would've made the rounds already. Ashton would have said something.

He knew all the gossip. He was like a sponge for tea.

I wondered why no one had invited me. Not that I would’ve gone. The inclusion would still have been nice. There was no point sulking. That wouldn’t change anything.

I forced myself into action.

First, I clipped my hair up, tight and high, just to keep it out of my face.

Then came my usual routine for that last bit of normalcy.

I used the bathroom, brushed my teeth, washed my face, and then showered.

In that exact order. I dressed in one of my old Crowsfell long-sleeved shirts, black leggings, and warm socks.

I pulled the clip from my hair and ran a brush through the ends, tugging gently where it snagged.

Then I twisted half of it back and clipped it again, looser this time.

A quick layer of moisturizer with SPF went on before I moved back into my room, scooping up Ryder’s shirt.

I debated keeping it, maybe even hiding it in the back of my closet, just to have. It still smelled like him. I changed my mind after thinking about it. That felt a little too on the nose of Helga’s shrine for Arnold , and I wasn’t ready to become that girl.

First, it would be this shirt, then it’d be his signed football, a sock, maybe even a used water bottle.

Yeah, I wasn’t going that far. Mom would find it and sage the house.

I tossed the shirt in the hamper with the rest of my clothes and turned to make the bed.

The comforter had slipped halfway off during the night.

I tugged it back into place, smoothed the sheets, and fluffed the pillows.

I was tucking the throw at the end when my phone went off.

I snatched it, hoping it would be one of my friends, but the only text waiting was from 1031.

They had been blissfully silent for the most part.

I opened it without hesitating for once.

1031

Trust is a fragile thing, isn't it?

One whisper, one lie, and everything falls apart.

Who do you think’s lying to you, Sanjana?

I sat down on the edge of the bed and texted back.

Why don’t you leave me the fuck alone?

1031

Because you’re my favorite star.

You’re not having the effect you think you are.

1031

You sure about that?

Remember, the final girl always screams the loudest when no one’s left to hear her.

Final girl? Please. That wasn’t me. I’d made too many bad calls.

Too many selfish choices. I was impulsive and emotional, and reckless, and I’d just spent the weekend cheating on my boyfriend with a guy who hadn’t even dumped his girlfriend.

At this rate, Cloe’s analysis would be spot on.

I stood up and headed downstairs, trying to shake off the frustration at this person.

I found Mom and Sugarmama in the kitchen.

Mom was cooking up something, and Sugarmama was doing her usual Sunday crossword puzzles.

“Morning,” I greeted, trying to keep my voice steady.

My mom glanced up, her smile soft. “Morning. Sleep well?”

“I did.”

Sugarmama looked at me with a knowing grin.

Oh, God. My stomach dropped. Had she heard us? That would be mortifying. I suddenly regretted every breath I took last night.

Sugarmama leaned back in her chair, tapping the pen against her lip. “Your boy toy left not too long ago.”

“Don’t call him that," my mom chastised.

Sugarmama chuckled.

“Hey, Sanj.” Mom turned away from the oven. “I meant to ask, you know, Dr. Hadler, Layla’s mom? I saw her the other day at the store. She seemed…”

“Like she needed an exorcism and a shower,” Sugarmama filled in, not missing a beat.

My mom gave her a tight look. “Unpleasant.”

“Semantics,” Sugarmama muttered, going back to her puzzle.

“Is Layla alright?” my mom asked, focusing back on me.

I didn’t want to get into Layla logistics right then, but if it meant dodging the Ryder conversation that I could see coming from a mile away, I’d take it.

“We’re not really close anymore,” I confessed, going to get a glass and pouring some water from the filter. “I don’t think we will be again.”

“Oh, what’s happened?” Mom asked.

“Nothing in particular. I just found out we have different ideas of what friendship means.”

My mom’s expression softened. “I’m sorry, my love.”

Sugarmama hmphed. “I hate to say I saw it coming, but I did. The girl never rubbed me the right way. She was like a water bug. Fast, jittery, and always in places she didn’t belong.”

I huffed. “Everyone used to call her a ferret.”

Sugarmama cracked up, slapping the counter once. “A ferret!”

My mom and I shared a look, then she straightened, wiping her hands on a kitchen towel. “Now, tell me about you and Ryder.”

I opened my mouth, but she held up a finger. “Don’t say nothing. I already saw quite a scene on the camera feed.”

I had been expecting that. I was hoping I would be back on campus before she went back and watched it. I swallowed, my voice small. “It’s complicated.”

“Try me,” Mom insisted. “Let’s see if I can uncomplicate things.” She turned back to the lemon squares she was transferring into a container, dropping each finished one with careful precision.

“I might as well tell you both now, I’m ending things with Ashton tomorrow.”

Sugarmama snorted, setting her crossword aside. “I think that’s for the best. That boy always looked at you like he was trying to figure out which shelf you belonged on.”

My mom’s head tilted slightly. “I agree with her for once.”

“Once you say? If you agreed with me more often, you wouldn’t have wound up in half the sticky situations you dealt with,” Sugarmama pointed out.

Mom ignored her. “When you’re holding onto one person and looking at another. Someone is bound to be hurt.”

There was nothing quite as humbling as your role models knowing you were stepping out on your relationship.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make such a mess out of everything. I don’t even know what I’m doing right now.”