Page 102 of Sticks and Stones (Shadow Valley U)

Dad’s attention flicks back to me. Like a shark scenting blood, his gaze sharpens.

Wren shifts.

“Be honest with me, Dad. How could you represent him?”

She stiffens.

I tighten my grip on her waist, keeping her from bolting. Because I know her as well as I know myself. Maybe even better. And right now, she’d love nothing more than to rush away and get the wrong idea.

Or maybe she’d have the right idea.

“I can’t discuss ongoing cases,” my father says, waving his hand.

“This is different,” I argue. “Wren’s life is in danger.”

“Stone—” Wren says.

“Quiet,” I murmur. To my dad, I continue, “Please. We know you’re appealing his conviction. We just need to know if there’s a chance of him getting out—”

“Well, it’s much too late for that.” Dad sighs. He stubs out his cigar and finishes off his drink, then stands. “The appellate court heard our case this week.”

I put Wren on her feet and stand too. “And?”

“And…” Dad shrugs. “As of yesterday, Jessie Davis is a free man.”

Well…fuck.

Andthat’swhen Wren bolts.

CHAPTER35

WREN

My world stops.

As of yesterday, Jessie Davis is a free man.

I’m gone.

I turn, and for someone who rarely wears heels, I make a pretty good escape with them strapped to my ankles.

“Wren!”

Stone’s voice booms from behind, but I pick up the pace. I know the streets like the back of my hand. I grew up on them. A tree branch slashes at my bare arm, but I keep running.

My chest heaves, and I feel sick. I wrap my arms around my tight stomach, and my hair sticks to the sweat on my forehead.

The only house I’ve ever considered a homeappears up ahead, but I don’t run to it. The last thing I want is for Rebecca and Stephen to see me like this.

I’m a mess. Stricken with fear and weighed down with betrayal.

How dare Stone get me all dazzled up in this stupidly expensive dress, tell me how beautiful I am, drag me to his father’s house, and then drop a fucking bomb on me?

The little hut that Evan and I used to hang out in is a beacon in the night. The slit in my dress parts when I dip down. My knees drag over the damp grass, and I crawl inside to hide.

A sob wants to rip out my body, but I keep that shit under lock and key.

Instead, slow tears drip down my cheeks and land on my pretty dress. They don’t stop even when I shut my eyes and rest my head along the splintered wood.