Lyla's POV

　　I sat cross-legged on the edge of the hotel bed, phone clutched tightly in my hand. The message was sent. The photos were out there.

　　Any second now, Hannah McLean's perfectly polished world would shatter. I leaned back against the headboard, waiting for the inevitable explosion. My phone buzzed. I lunged for it, heart pounding with triumph. The notification was from Hannah.

　　Opening it, I expected to see rage. Or hurt. Maybe even disbelief. ...