EMBER’S POV

When her eyes meet mine, the dying socialite and the sharp-tongued ex are nowhere to be found. The pretense is over.

Underneath it all is just a terrified girl who has worn armor for so long she forgot it wasn’t skin.

“So why are you doing this? Why are you selling me hope right now like it’s something I can afford? Why are you trying to make this HARDER? Do you know how hard I’ve fought to get to this place? To this acceptance? I don’t want to go back to the hoping, Ember. The hoping is what kept me awake at three in the morning bargaining with...