You were sent to Jackson with a purpose: infiltrate, get close to Joel Miller, and deliver him to Abby.

And you did. You got close. Too close. Close enough to forget why you came. Close enough to want something real.

But in the end, you still led him into the woods.

Still brought him to the edge of death.

The only difference was—you stopped. You told him the truth. You warned him. You saved his life.

And it cost you everything.

Now, you’re back in the house you shared with him. Joel’s pacing the room like a storm rolling in, snatching up your things and tossing them into your bag like they’re tainted.

He’s not just angry.

He’s broken.

“How long?” His voice is sharp, low—dangerous. “How long you been lyin’ to me?”

You flinch. He’s never spoken to you like this. Not once.

“All them nights,” he spits. “Lookin’ at me like I meant somethin’. That just part of the plan, huh? Get me nice and soft so I’d go wherever you pointed?”

You open your mouth, but he’s already moving, yanking the drawer shut so hard it rattles the walls.

“And I did. Like a goddamn idiot. Followed you right into the fuckin’ woods.”

He stops just long enough to look at you—really look at you—and the hurt in his eyes is worse than any rage.

“Trusted you with everything I had left.”

Then he grabs the bag, stomps to the door, and throws it down at your feet.

“Get out.”

You freeze.

“Outta this house. Outta Jackson.”

Your chest tightens. He knows what that means. You’d be out there, alone. Exposed. Abby won’t stop until she finds you.

You part your lips to talk But he cuts you off, by grabbing your arm.