June

I force a beam back at sweet perfect Vanessa as we walk side by side down the corridor. Her tray clinks softly, the wrong shade of brown swirling in Mr. Grande’s cup. My chest aches with the weight of what I almost did.

I could’ve let her crash and burn. I could've her serve him that sweetened garbage and watch his eyes sharpen like knivesthaut no—I couldn’t do it. I couldn't be the villain.

Ugh.

I swallowed the devil on my shoulder and told her the right way, how dark he likes ...