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26. The bastard

Nina

I finally pull up to the gate, a wave of anxiety washing over me. The driver glances back at me through the rearview mirror. “You sure you wanna go in?”

“Yeah,” I say, straightening my shoulders. “Just go ahead. I’ll be right in.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Alright, but don’t mention this to anyone, okay?”

“Promise. I’ll be fine,” I assure him, my stomach twisting as I watch him nod and drive on.

As I step out of the car, I spot someone leaning against a parked ...

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