Shattered Asylum

Chapter 85

Grayson wasn't lying about leaving at dawn. The second the sun peeked over the mountains, he was up, dressed, packed, and gone within twenty minutes.

The goodbye... sucked.

It wasn't nearly as long as I wanted it to be.

Something in him shifted the second he got that text. The way he always does when whoever that is messages him. Cold. Clipped. Like he's tucking his emotions away, one piece at a time.

I've seen it before, that switch in his energy. Like he flips into another version of himself. I just don't know why. Or who's always on the other end.

And the guys who came to get him? They barely gave us five minutes. If that. Grayson tried to be affectionate, I could tell he wanted to, but it was stiff. Measured. Like he was calculating every move, making sure nothing showed in front of them. Like affection was off limits.

All we managed was a hug, a kiss, and a few rushed words I keep replaying in my head. Then he was gone.

Now I've got a few hours before my flight back to Forks. It feels wrong going back alone. My anxiety's already creeping in just thinking about the airport.

Technically, I'm not completely alone, Grandpa is sending bodyguards to escort me, but I don't know them. And that doesn't make me feel any better.

Leslie wants to do a girls' day before I leave. Probably trying to keep my mind busy. And honestly? I'm grateful for the distraction.

I'm almost done getting ready when she knocks softly, then steps into my room. "What do you want to do first, nails or dinner?" She asks, settling on the edge of my bed.

I've never actually gotten my nails professionally done before. I don't even know what kind of design I'd want.

"Hmm... we could do our nails first?" It comes out more like a question. I've never liked being the one to decide.

"Sounds good to me," she says, pulling out her compact and fluffing her bangs in the mirror. "Gotta look cute for our dinner date. Got anywhere in mind?"

"I've been wanting to try Indian food... if you're into that," I say, with a small shrug.

It's been nice, having someone who sort of feels like a mom lately. My mom never did stuff like this with me. If Dad wasn't coming too, we just... didn't go.

Even that one time she took me to a trunk or treat? It wasn't for me. It was because her friends were going. It always was.

"I love Indian food. I know the perfect place," Leslie says, meeting my eyes in the mirror. She gives my shoulder a gentle squeeze before heading to the door. "Finish up, I'll be downstairs."

~

The salon is warm and humming with the usual buzz of blow dryers and gossip, the scent of acetone sharp in the air. Leslie glances around, leading me to a corner station with two empty chairs and a puzzled look.

"Huh," she murmurs. "My usual girl, Kate, must be out today."

A young woman in bubblegum pink scrubs and space buns pop around the divider, flashing us a grin like she's just walked onto the set of a reality show. "Heyyy! I'm Chloe, filling in for Kate today! You're Leslie, right? And you must be..." She pauses, eyeing me up and down. "Wow. You're like illegally pretty. What are you, nineteen?"

I blink. "I just turned seventeen, actually."

"Ugh. Even worse. Jail time and insecurity," she says with mock despair, already pulling out her tools.

Leslie sits beside me, amused. "Well, I guess we're in for a surprise."

"Buckle up, ladies," Chloe says, winking. "Now tell me what we're thinking. Square? Almond? Coffin? Vixen claws? I can read aura energy if needed."