Page 172 of The Right Wrong Promise

Kids suck when they’re mean. There’s a special place in hell for bullies.

But she’s such a happy, shy girl, and I want her to shine without judgment. I want her to see what I do when I look at her, and what her dad must’ve always noticed since the day she was born.

Hopefully, this redesign will help.

A statement, not a megaphone.

With a little more tweaking, I can send the design off to a supplier who can make a custom model. Then if it looks good, I’ll ship the finished product to them at home.

My heart hurts again when I remember I’ll never get to see her reaction—if she loves them at all.

Once this is over, we’ll have gone our separate ways.

My phone buzzes loudly beside me.

Hattie.

She’s probably wondering why I haven’t been texting her constant updates.

“Okay,” she says the second I answer. “I know you’re busy canoodling, but I need to know the situation.”

“Canoodling? Who says that?” I laugh despite myself, putting my stylus down and leaning back in the chair.

“Me. I say that. And you’re not using it to avoid the question.”

“What question, Hat-girl?”

“Areyou canoodling?”

Kane’s voice floats through the open window.

“Nope,” I admit after a second. “We’re not even on the same floor of the house right now.”

“Oh. Crap,” she says. “Do you want to talk?”

“Would you let menottalk about it?” I get up and flop down on the bed.

“I’d tell you that I love you and respect your privacy and that you have every right not to talk to me about it,” she says reasonably. “But then I would ignore you for three days straight while eating Ben and Jerry’s.”

“Cookie dough?”

“Obviously. Only the best in this house. Nowspill! What happened with that creepy stalker dude? And what’s going on with Hunky McHunkster?”

“Please never call him that again,” I say.

“Only if you talk. How can I be your moral support if you won’t let me?”

I chew my lip, deciding not to tell her too much about the stalker situation.

She’ll just worry, and then she’ll probably tell Ethan.

Then he’ll show up here and make a scene. Nobody needs my brother dropping in with his worries and adding to the mess.

I also don’t need my brother sending Holden to turn this place into a fortress or drag me home. I’m not sure the fabric of the universe can handle two tight-lipped strongman egos in the same room.

“We reported the guy I saw to the police. No big deal,” I say. “And Kane, he’s…”

“Margot, did you sleep together?”