Lila's POV

The neon from the club sign shone red across the sidewalk as I pushed through the side exit, the heavy door shutting behind me like it was trying to trap the bass inside. My feet ached in the cheap block heels I’d worn for the double shift, and my throat still burned from the last shot of tequila I’d drowned to survive the night. All I wanted was my bed, a hot shower, and to text Serena to make sure she hadn’t murdered Daniel Hawthorne yet or worse, let him murder her in a good ...