because she’d never had control in the first place.
Carson forced her chin up. “Look at me,” he growled. “You don’t belong here.”
Not news to her.
“You never ha—” His words cut off as Myles barreled into him, knocking him to the concrete.
Carson tried to pop up, but Myles was bigger and stronger.
Brea stepped back until she teetered on the edge of the curb. She’d never seen Myles so angry… or violent.
She needed to stop it, to help him. Carson managed to roll them over, his fist pounding into Myles’ face.
“Myles,” Brea whispered, desperation coursing through her.
Her friend’s hand went limp, but Carson didn’t stop.
“You can’t do this.” Her voice was so quiet no one heard her. Carson’s friends only watched in fascination as blood poured from Myles’ face.
He couldn’t get away with this. Searing hot rage ripped through her, filling every cell with its fury. Her jaw clenched as heat pooled in her hands. Her eyes blazed as she became more than the girl on the sidelines.
She tilted her head to the side, trying to hold back whatever was happening. But this was Myles, and that only amplified every emotion in her.
“Myles is good,” she bit out. He deserved only good things.
Unlike her. It was in that moment Brea realized she wasn’t good, she was fire to his ocean, rage to his joy.
The way he saw the world may have been a lie, but it had to be preserved.
Light poured from her before she knew what was happening. Pain exploded in her temple as the power split her in two. She tried to call it back, to make it stop, but it kept coming.
Her knees buckled, and she fell forward. She didn’t sense the impact as she hit the ground or feel whatever that power was snap back into her.
Her eyes found Myles motionless on the ground with the others nowhere to be found. She reached for his hand, struggling to grasp his icy fingers.
Whatever this was, it was just another lie. Another illusion. She’d wake up soon to find everything as it should be.
Part of her hoped it was a dream and she’d open her eyes to find the blank white walls of the Clarkson Center caging her in once again.
A hand pressed Brea to the concrete as her eyes slid open. Flashing red and blue lights reflected off the snow. They didn’t belong there, but then, neither did she.
“Am I going back to the Clarkson Center?” she wheezed out.
No one answered. By now, half the school probably watched from the windows.
She lifted her head, searching for Myles and only finding splatters of blood where he’d been before.
“Myles?” Still, no answer. Any minute, he’d walk out of the school to wrap his arms around her. “Where’s Myles?”
Whoever held her down took pity on her finally. “The boy who was here? They’ve taken him to St. Mary’s.”
“The hospital? Is he…” She swallowed. “Is he going to be okay?”
“I’d be surprised if he survived the ambulance ride.”
She shook her head. It couldn’t be real. Just another one of her delusions. Myles was fine. He had to be. He was the best person she knew, the only one who’d ever loved her.
It should be her in that ambulance.
The man hauled her up, and her legs wobbled beneath her. She turned her head, catching sight of his police officer’s uniform. He nodded to where three other officers waited beside two police cruisers.
“Brea Robinson, you are under arrest for the attempted murder of Myles Merrick.”
“No, I couldn’t have hurt him. Not Myles.” She tried to remember everything that happened, but it didn’t seem real. They really thought it was her that did this?
The officer continued reading her rights, but she couldn’t hear him over the ringing in her ears.
“You’ll be able to call your people from the precinct.”
Her people? He meant her parents, but they’d never been her people. That title had always rested solely with Myles, the boy next door.
And she’d killed him.
Brea Robinson was a lie.
A horror story.
But the truth? She wasn’t sure if that even existed.
The cop shoved her into the back of his cruiser, her hands cuffed behind her back.
She leaned her head against the seat and stared at the ceiling, wishing she could see the blue sky Myles loved so much. A tear escaped, but she couldn’t wipe it away. “I’m sorry, Myles.”
Chapter Two
The door to Brea’s cell opened. For the last twenty-four hours, the only person she’d seen was her therapist, Doctor Cochran—and his sedatives. He claimed that seeing