BLURRY | SPRINA

Chapter Twenty-Seven

The days passed in a blur.

Spencer was still healing, still processing, still trying to ignore the weight of everything. But one thing remained constant—Trina.

She came by every day, sometimes staying for hours, making sure he ate, making sure he rested. She didn't hover, didn't nag, but her presence was grounding. Even when she wasn't saying much, just sitting beside him, flipping through her phone or reading a book, he found himself breathing easier.

And maybe that was why, on the fifth day, he knew she wasn't going to let this slide anymore.

"You haven't mentioned Esme," Trina said, crossing her arms as she leaned against the dresser, watching him carefully.

Spencer stiffened slightly, adjusting his position against the pillows. "What about her?"

Trina narrowed her eyes. "She hasn't been seen or heard from since the night you were attacked. You're telling me that doesn't seem suspicious to you?"

Spencer schooled his expression. He should've known Trina would ask.

He had been avoiding the topic for a reason—because the moment he spoke it into existence, the moment he admitted the truth, he'd have to deal with what came next.

And what came next?

Trina exhaled sharply, shaking her head. "Spencer. You're hiding something."

He looked away.

"Spencer."

The way she said his name made his chest tighten.

He sighed, rubbing a hand down his face before finally meeting her gaze.

"I know what happened to Esme," he admitted.

Trina's brows furrowed. "What do you mean?"

Spencer hesitated only a second before letting it all out. "She set me up," he said quietly. "She led the guy straight to me. She made sure I was in the right place at the right time. She wanted me dead."

Trina's mouth parted, and for a second, she said nothing.

Spencer could see the exact moment the anger hit.

Her arms dropped to her sides, her shoulders tensed, her nostrils flared. "That bitch," she seethed.

Spencer almost smirked at her immediate reaction, but then—

Trina's expression shifted.

Something flickered behind her eyes.

Guilt.

He sat up slightly, wincing. "What?"

Trina swallowed hard, shaking her head. "It's my fault."

Spencer blinked. "What?"

Trina let out a breath, pacing slightly. "If I didn't go to Wyndemere that night..."

"When Esme came back, she saw us together—on the couch." She paused, rubbing her forehead. "We didn't know for sure if she was saw us. But apparently, she did, and she told someone about it."

Spencer frowned. "Who?"

Trina hesitated. "Jasper."

The room felt colder instantly.

Spencer sat up fully now, ignoring the way his body protested. "Jasper?"

Trina nodded, her expression tight. "He knows, Spencer. And he's pissed. He confronted me about it."

Spencer processed that, his jaw locking. The pieces started shifting into place.

Esme had set him up.