Chapter 6

Damien Taylor didn’t leave the Johnson neighborhood. His gaze remained fixed on the window Amelia had climbed through earlier. The light inside flickered on and off—she was clearly still awake. Using the number she’d given him, he sent her a friend request on WhatsApp. She accepted almost instantly. Damien typed: Still awake? Amelia replied: About to sleep. Are you home yet? Damien: Just got back. Amelia: Get some rest, then. Damien: I’ll pick you up tomorrow. I’ve arranged a dress for you. Amelia: Okay. We’ll talk then. Damien: Good night. Amelia: Good night. Only after her final reply did Damien finally start the car and drive away. Amelia hadn’t been asleep long when she drifted into a vivid, restless dream. In it, she was with Damien—in bed, in the bath… the scenes were intense, leaving her flushed and breathless. She woke with a start, cheeks burning, and sat up straight, pressing her palms to her face. What’s wrong with me? She’d only met him once, and already her mind was running wild. So much for composure. But when she fell back asleep, the dream returned—just as heated, just as vivid. Early the next morning, a knock sounded at her door. Sabrina’s voice called through, “Sis, can I come in?” “Come in, Sabrina,” Amelia answered, still curled under the covers. She had no idea what drama was coming so early. Sabrina usually barged in without knocking—maybe last night’s incident had taught her some caution. But then Ethan Collins stepped into the room behind her. In her past life, on this same morning after her birthday, though the two men hadn’t succeeded in assaulting her, they had forced her into a degrading photo session. And Sabrina—who else?—had anonymously sent those photos to Ethan. Before pushing Amelia from the building, Sabrina had even posted those images online. She’d said she wanted Amelia to die despised and ruined, without a shred of dignity. No wonder Ethan had come to loathe her. In his eyes, she must have seemed utterly cheap. Just as she had once trusted him, he had fallen for Sabrina’s innocent act. But not this time. Amelia was done with heartbreak and manipulation. Maybe she hadn’t loved Ethan as deeply as she’d believed—facing him now, she felt nothing but cold clarity. Sabrina approached the bed. “Sis, who hurt you last night? Tell Ethan—he’ll make them pay.” “No one hurt me.” Amelia almost smiled bitterly. Is that what this is about? “Don’t lie to me, sis. Those bruises last night…” Sabrina reached for Amelia’s pajama top, but her words trailed off as she froze. The marks—the bites, the reddish bruises—were gone. “What are you doing, Sabrina? Ethan is right here,” Amelia said quickly, pulling her collar back into place. “Where are the injuries? You had so many last night. Where did they go?” Sabrina looked stunned, as if last night had been an illusion. Amelia lowered her gaze, her voice trembling just enough: “You left me alone at the hotel, remember? A few girls came in… they smeared makeup all over me, on my face and body… I was too drunk to fight back…” Her voice broke as if she were on the verge of tears. Ethan frowned. “Sabrina, you left Amelia alone last night?”