“Sit, Harper.” She doesn’t sit, and she flinches at my use of her given name. That small flinch tugs at something inside of me. “I came here because you were my friend,” she says quietly. “Are you still?” That tugs harder. It must flicker in my expression, because her eyes soften and she takes a step toward me. “Grey. Please. I came here because Rhen was your friend, because—” “He was not my friend,” I snap, and she stumbles back, her eyes flaring wide. My anger surprises even me, as if it waited all this time to surface. “I understand why he did what he did, Harper. But he was not my friend.”
damn!!!! this hits so hard omg.
