Page 397 of Playing Dirty

---

She wasn’t noise.

She was part of the structure now.

My phone buzzed.

Rowan.

Rowan:

I have to write the final piece soon.

I stared at it longer than usual.

Then typed:

Mason:

Don’t make it something it’s not.

Three dots.

Rowan:

I’m not trying to.

That didn’t reassure me.

Because I believed her.

ROWAN

Serena didn’t joke when I told her.

She just sat down.

“That’s it then,” she said.

“What’s it?”

“You’re officially inside the story.”

I frowned. “Stop calling it that.”

“It is one,” she said simply.

My phone buzzed again.

Mason.

Mason:

We leave for NYC tomorrow.

That stopped everything.

Not metaphorically.

Actually stopped.

---