Page 151 of The Midnight Frequency

There was no point.

I was shattering, splintering.

I was never going to feel whole again.

I knew the door opened by the way the hushed sounds of the crowds grew louder, sharper.

I couldn’t even muster enough self-respect to fake it, to pull it together long enough to get the hell out of there.

“Oh, Maggs.”

A sob escaped me at the sound of Tess’s voice.

“I know,” she said. Then she was down on the floor with me, her arms going around me, almost tightly enough to keep me from breaking apart. “I know.”

And if anyone did, it was her.

I’d been there when she’d been breaking, when she’d been so consumed with sadness, regret, and anger that she couldn’t even feed or bathe herself, couldn’t even think past her grief.

I didn’t need to pretend with her.

So I didn’t.

I let the pain wash through me, pulling me under over and over, leaving me sobbing so hard I was gasping for air, my body racked with the intensity of them.

“I… loved him,” I whimpered when there were no more tears to cry.

“I know you did.”

“I didn’t mean for it to happen like this.”

“What? You mean you didn’t want to publicly expose yourself and Silas? No way!”

A snort escaped me at that.

“Okay. I’ve got a plan,” Margo said, moving into the charging room with a bag. “Sweatshirt,” she said, tossing me one that was three times too big. “Sunglasses.” They landed near my knees. “And a hat.”

“She’s not a rich lady trying to hide out after getting plastic surgery done, Margo,” Tess said.

“Look. Not to alarm anyone, but as I was packing up all the unsold merch from the table, let’s just say I heard some things.”

“What things?” Tess asked, her hand still stroking my hair.

“Well, the internet detectives work fast. And everyone has her name. And her face. And… let’s just say getting out of here without being mobbed and without some kind of disguise is not possible.”

A whimper escaped me at that.

It wasn’t bad enough to have hurt the man I’d been falling for. I’d been exposed.

It wouldn’t be long until people knew every detail of my life: where I lived, places I frequented, the college I went to, my father’s awful speciesism.

It would all come out.

My name would be dragged through the mud.

Somehow, though, that didn’t matter nearly as much as the look on Silas’s face that kept playing on a loop in my mind.

“Okay. Let’s get this over with then.” Tess shoved the shirt over my head, guiding my arms into the sleeves like I was a child, then pulling the hat down over my head and slipping the shades on my face.