The dorm hall was quiet, too quiet for a building packed with athletes celebrating a championship win. Maya sat on the edge of her bed, fingers twisting the hem of her practice shirt, mind still caught in the wreckage Madison had left behind.
I almost told him. Almost freed myself.
Now she couldn't. Not with Madison watching, calculating, planning whatever revenge she'd already started constructing.
Her phone buzzed. Agent Chen again.
Report in. Now.
Maya stared at the screen. What do I even say? That everything's falling apart? That the killer found me and Madison's suspicious and Ethan won't stop asking questions?
She typed back: Can't talk right now.
The response came instantly: This isn't optional.
Later. I'll deal with Chen later.
A creak down the hall snapped her head up. Heavy footsteps followed, measured, deliberate, wrong for this time of night. Her skin prickled.
