Alexandria

The scene happened around me, with me, and yet I was always a step behind.

The picture on Bryce's phone was of me. Was it a trick?

"Bryce, what are you saying?"

He seized my upper arm, the same place he'd grabbed it the other day, pulling me closer. "I'm asking you a fucking question."

I fought his grip. "Let go of me. You're hurting me."

We moved about the room, all three of us in a dance choreographed by both rage and fear. ...