Untouchable

0.37

Kayla’s POV

I didn’t mean to eavesdrop.

Seriously.

But when you walk into an empty hallway and suddenly hear your best friend’s name being thrown around in a hushed, almost vicious whisper, you don’t just walk away.

You listen.

So that’s exactly what I did.

I press my back against the wall, just out of sight, my heart pounding as I strain to hear the voices coming from the other side of the corner.

“…have no idea what she’s done.”

That’s Lynne’s voice. I recognize the sharpness, the slight edge she gets when she’s pissed off.

“She’s ruined everything,” she continues, voice low but dripping with venom.

There’s a pause. Then, Kennedy speaks. “You think I don’t know that?” Her tone is quieter, controlled, but I hear the frustration underneath. “I warned her. I told her she was tearing them apart.”

Lynne lets out a bitter laugh. “And yet, here we are. The ‘untouchables’ falling apart over some girl.”

My stomach twists.

I know who they’re talking about.

Ivy.

There’s a shuffle of movement, and then Kennedy sighs. “It’s not just her.”

Lynne scoffs. “No, it is her. She walked in and started picking them off one by one. Nathaniel. Alistair. Adrian.”

I flinch.

“Ivy isn’t doing anything on purpose,” Kennedy mutters, but she doesn’t sound entirely convinced.

Lynne snorts. “You sound like you’re defending her.”

“I’m not. I just—” Kennedy stops, and for a second, I think she might actually take Ivy’s side. But then she sighs. “Look, I told her to stay away. Whether she listens or not, that’s on her.”

Something about the way she says it sends a shiver down my spine.

“I told you we should’ve handled it earlier,” Lynne murmurs. “Now it’s too late. They’re all too attached.”

Kennedy exhales sharply. “Which is why you have to fix it.”

I freeze.

What?

Lynne doesn’t respond right away, but when she does, her voice is quieter. “I already am.”

My pulse spikes.

I have no idea what that means, but it sounds wrong.

Dangerous.

Then, Kennedy’s next words nearly make me gasp out loud.

“You owe me, Lynne. Don’t forget that.”

Silence.

A long, suffocating pause.

And then—Lynne’s voice, tight and bitter. “I never do.”

My chest squeezes.

I don’t know what the hell I just overheard, but every instinct in me screams that it’s bad.

Really bad.

And worse?

It has everything to do with Ivy.