Aurora Lockheart was once the sunshine girl-bright, kind, and full of life. But one night changed everything, leaving her a shadow of who she used to be.
A year later, just as she's beginning to think she'll never find her way back, her ex-best fr...
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"It's going to be okay." Shannon's voice was soft but firm, a lifeline in the storm. With one arm wrapped securely around my waist, she guided me back to the common room, each step echoing against the walls like a heartbeat. "Johnny is going to find him," she continued, her words steady, as if speaking it aloud would make it true.
"I should have gone with him," I murmured, feeling hollow, numb. "It's my fault."
Shannon's grip on me tightened as she stopped, turning me to face her with an expression so fierce it nearly undid me. "No, Aurora, it's not. None of this is your fault, I promise." Her voice softened, and she gave a small shake of her head. "And you're in no condition to be running around town looking for him. Joey's not drinking. He'll drive us back to the house, and we'll be there when Johnny brings him home. Because he will find him, Rory. He won't stop until he does."
My gaze dropped to the ground, my fingers clenching and unclenching as I tried to hold myself together. "I just... I can't deal with Lizzie right now, Shan," I admitted, barely managing to keep my voice steady as I gestured toward the closed door. "I can't." I could feel a tear slip down my cheek, hot and sharp, and I batted it away with the back of my hand. "If she says another word about Gibsie, I think I might snap."
"Then wait out here, okay?" Shannon's voice was gentle, her eyes full of understanding. "I'll go inside and get Joe."
I nodded, hiccupping a bit as I agreed. "Okay."
Shannon gave me one last, reassuring squeeze before turning and slipping into the room. For a moment, I stayed outside, focusing on breathing, trying to ignore the noise coming from the other side of the door. But then, just as she opened it, Lizzie's voice erupted, filling the space like a siren, sharp and grating.
"I don't care what she says. He's clearly got into her head and twisted everything around!" Lizzie was screaming, her voice thick with accusation. "She's defending all of this to cover for him- he's making it up!"
The words cut through me, sharp and piercing. My heart pounded, every ounce of control slipping from my grasp. I couldn't stand it anymore. Every wound, every frustration, every angered heartbeat clawed its way to the surface, unstoppable.
That was it.
That was all I could take.
Before I even realized it, I was moving, slamming my palm against the door and pushing it open with enough force that it crashed against the wall. Every eye in the room turned to me, wide with shock. Lizzie's mouth fell open, her expression morphing from surprise to something darker as I stood there, anger radiating off me in waves.
"Making it up?" My voice was cold, each word sharp and controlled, though my entire body trembled with barely contained rage. "Making it up?" My gaze locked on Lizzie, her tall, willowy frame seeming smaller somehow, as if the weight of my anger had diminished her.
