I exhaled deeply, like I’d been holding that breath for days. Then I turned back to my research, steeling myself to return to the books. I was just starting to get into the right headspace when the door creaked open behind
me.
My entire body tensed as Piper stepped inside, her expression distracted, almost hesitant.
Of all the times…
The memory of our last encounter slammed into me like a train. My instincts screamed at me to bolt-just get up and leave—but my legs didn’t move.
Why now?
She hadn’t taken more than a few steps before her head snapped to the right-straight toward me. Our eyes locked. For a heartbeat, she froze, stunned. Then she took a step back, like she might bolt too.
But she didn’t.
Instead, she squared her shoulders and disappeared among the bookshelves.
I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding, my body sagging with relief. I considered leaving—again— but something kept me rooted. I couldn’t keep running. Not from her. Not from this.
So, I stayed.
I reached for another book, trying to focus, but I felt her return before I even saw her. She sat a few tables away, with her own stack of books. I tried to concentrate, but her presence was like static in my mind— disruptive and impossible to ignore. Her scent carried memories I didn’t want to face. Memories of a time when we were inseparable. Before everything fell apart.
Before the goddess decided to ruin everything.
Bitterness threatened to rise, but I forced it down. The past was what it was. No amount of resentment could change it.
Still, the minutes crawled by. I kept losing my place in the text, my thoughts drifting to her. We didn’t speak, but I could feel her watching me, her eyes flickering toward me every so often like she wanted to say something but didn’t.
I was just about to give up and walk out when I heard the sound of a chair scraping. I glanced up.
Piper was standing right in front of me.
I raised my head slowly until our eyes met.
She looked… different.
Still beautiful with that runway model frame, long black hair, forest green eyes, and full pink lips-but the light in her had dimmed. She looked tired. Fragile. She’d lost weight. Her usual effortless glow had been replaced by something dimmer, like a candle on the verge of burning out.
Once, she turned heads everywhere we went. But I never envied her. The only person I ever wanted to impress was her brother.
Our friendship had been everything. She was born into privilege-Alpha’s daughter, Alpha’s sister, second only to her mother in power. But she never acted like she was above anyone. She loved fiercely. Protected me like a sister_still remember when she beat up a boy who shoved me into a pond because I wouldn’t give him my lollipop. We were ten.
That was the Piper I knew.
The Piper I loved.
And yet, somehow, that same girl turned her back on me with barely a blink.
I studied her as she stood there, saying nothing, just….. waiting.
Finally, she spoke. I’m sorry.
Her voice was low, broken. Her shoulders sagged like the weight of it had finally crushed her.
I was wrong, Sadie. So wrong. You have no idea how guilty I felt when we thought you were dead. I knew you. You were my best friend. I knew your heart. I should’ve trusted you. But didn’t. I realized too late what I’d done.
Something flickered in me. Familiar. Dangerous. A longing I’d tried to bury years ago.
Could a decade of friendship be undone by one betrayal?
I know I hurt you,” she whispered, tears welling in her eyes. “And that’s on me. I was a terrible friend. You have every right to hate me…
Her voice broke again. The words got caught in her throat.
I could feel it now—her remorse. Her guilt. Her self-loathing. I’d been too blinded by pain before to see it. But now, calmer, quieter… I saw it all.