Mandy got home feeling exhausted, the door clicked shut behind her. Mandy threw her purse on the couch and kicked off her heels. Her head was pounding from everything, Dante, Jason, the way her own heart betrayed her every time Dante looked at her.

She didn’t bother turning on the lights. The silence was comforting. Safe.

She stripped off her work clothes, tossed on an oversized shirt, and collapsed into bed.

“Forget him,” she muttered into the pillow. “Forget all of it.”

Sleep ...