Chapter 4

The phone had been ringing for three days straight.

"Please, Liv. We need to talk."

Ryan's voice cracked through the voicemail, desperate and raw. I deleted it without listening to the rest, just like I'd done with the forty-seven messages before it.

But on the fourth day, when Zara found me curled up on my couch in the same pajamas I'd worn since fleeing that house, she took matters into her own hands.

"You can't hide forever," she said, gently prying my phone from my death grip. "And you need answers. Real answers."

She was right. The not knowing was…