Keya's POV:
I walked away from Miranda, weaving through the shadows of the trees until the soft spill of golden light from the party came back into view. Laughter drifted through the night air like music. Clinking glasses. Familiar voices. Joy.
This—this—was where I belonged. Among people who saw me, who loved me. I could be alive here. I could breathe. I could fight the self-doubt here.
But no matter how many steps I took, I couldn’t shake Miranda’s face. The panic in her voice, the glassiness in her eyes. "He won’t let you go."
I wasn’t scared of him. James was too weak to do anything. And if he did, I could take him down in a fair fight, even in heels.
But Miranda had looked scared. Terrified. Of him? Or of losing him? I had no idea.
And that unease… that twisted under my ribs lik
