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93

Adrian's POV

I have never hated myself more than I did right now.

Sitting across from Bethany at breakfast, watching her eyes flicker with pain, with confusion, with heartbreak—I feel like I'm the one killing her, piece by piece.

And maybe I am.

Because I didn't fight back.

Because I didn't reach for her hand.

Because I didn't tell her the truth.

That I'm lying.

That I'm playing a role.

That every cold stare, every indifferent silence, every instance of standing by while Mason taunts her is nothing more than a calculated move to keep her alive.

If Mason thinks I don't care about her anymore, he'll stop using her against me.

If Bethany thinks I don't care… Well.

That's the part that's tearing me apart.

She looks like she's breaking.