I turn and run back to my room. Scarlett is still gone, probably hiding somewhere. I grab a hoodie from my closet, throw another at Thea.
“Come on.”
She catches it, pulls it on without question. “Where are we going?”
“After him.”
Thea grins—wild, reckless, the same grin she had when we snuck out junior year to crash a college party. “Now we’re talking.”
We slip out into the night.
The campus has settled down now. The families that were out ten minutes ago are gone, the cars packed and driving away. I guess they were all saying their goodbyes. Students are settling into their dorms, unpacking, probably nervous about classes starting. I would love to have normal problems.
We stay in the shadows, following the path Axel took. He’s ahead of us, maybe fifty yards, moving fast but not running. His hoodie is pulled up, hands shoved in his pockets.
Streetlights flicker overhead, casting long shadows that stretch and twist. The air is cold, biting, the kind that makes your breath fog.
He heads toward the rink.
The building looms at the edge of campus, dark and hulking. The lights are off. No one should be there this late.
But Axel doesn’t hesitate. He cuts across the parking lot, past the main entrance, toward the back.
Thea grabs my arm, whispers, “Lex, this is a bad idea.”
“I know.”
“We should go back.”
“Fuck no.”
I keep walking, keep following, because if I don’t do this now, I’ll lose him. I’ll lose the only family I have left.
We reach the edge of the parking lot, crouch behind a car.
Axel disappears around the corner of the building, into the service alley.
I came here to save him. And I won’t let him throw his life away like our parents did.
I take a breath. Stand.
Thea grabs my wrist. “Lexi—”
“Stay here.”
“Like hell.”
We move together, silent, creeping along the brick wall. The alley is narrow, dark, lit only by a single streetlamp that buzzes and flickers.
Voices.
I freeze, press my back against the wall. Thea does the same.
“—the fuck did you get this that fast?”
The voice is cold. Flat. Not Axel’s.
“It won’t happen again—”
