85

85

Bethany's POV

The trick to surviving Mason was simple: play dumb and stay quiet. That's what Emily had told me when she slipped the truth into my hands. A truth that had been quietly detonating in my chest every second since I learned it.

A bomb. An actual bomb. Inside me.

I don't even remember how I kept my face blank when she looked at me, or how I managed to choke out a laugh when Mason glanced over at us the following evening. I'd felt like screaming, clawing at my skin, demanding to know what kind of monster could do that to another person. But I already knew the answer. Mason was that kind of monster.

Now I was sitting in the garden, pretending to admire the flowers Mason insisted on having, as if a few overpriced roses could make up for all the ways he'd shattered me. The sun was setting, painting the sky in colors too beautiful for the hell I was living in, and I was doing my best not to let my paranoia show.