(Fiona’s POV)

My phone buzzed insistently on the bedside table, pulling me out of my sleep as I scratched my eyes to the bright light leaking through the curtains. I groaned softly and reached for my phone, blinking against the screen light filtering through the phone. It was a message from Paris, at an oddly early hour.

“I’m outside Jalen’s house, Fi—come out. We need to talk,” my heart skipped. She sounded so hasty and I was curious to know what happened.

I sat up instantly as ...