I didn't sleep last night. Not even for a minute. My mind kept replaying every word Reece said, over and over, like a scratched-up record that won't stop skipping at the worst part.
What if my parents really are hiding something? What if this marriage wasn't just a mistake—but a setup?
Would my siblings know? Did they go along with it too? Did they think I deserved this?
I sit at the dining table the next morning, staring down at my plate. The food's untouched, but I keep moving it around like I'm trying to convince myself I'm hungry. I'm not. I'm hollow.
Across the table, I feel August glance at me. Not once. A few times. Like he's trying to read me but doesn't want to commit to the effort.
"You okay?" he finally asks, casual but not. His tone is dipped in caution, like he's stepping
