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“What did he want?” He put a hand on the small of my back.

I nearly screamed.

Brody’s presence always seemed to derail my panic attacks, but not this time. This time, there was no escape from the freight train of panic about to slam into me.

“Nothing, everything is fine. Just a warning.” I pulled back, out of Brody’s reach.

He narrowed his eyes at me.

“I need to finish getting ready,” I managed to choke out. I backed away from his hand as he reached for me.

“Okay,” he said slowly. “Then come outside and find us.”

I nodded, turned on my heel, and ran for the stairs.

Selena

By the timeI got to the bathroom upstairs, I could hardly breathe, the panic was so sharp and heavy.

I raced in and made sure to lock both doors. I hadn’t bothered to turn the lights on. I didn’t want to see myself.

He had the video. He was threatening to make it public.

I couldn’t stand it. The world whirled. I felt out of control. I had no power. Everyone would see my darkest shame. Everyone would see, and I’d have no way to stop it. Even if I could convince myself that I didn’t care about the faceless masses of the student body… the Sinclairs. I tried to picture Cal’s face, and his father’s.

What about Brody? The very idea made me feel sick.

I dropped to my knees, knocking over half the contents on the counter over as I went. I tugged my top off; I was so hot that the struggle to breathe was sending me dizzy.

The world swam. I crawled across the floor, my hands landing on things that I’d knocked over. A sharp pain sliced through my panic. I looked down to see Brody’s razor on the floor. It was one of those old-fashioned ones. The kind you used after lathering your face up with a brush. Blood ran across my hand. The pain allowed my first deep breath.

I grabbed the razor and scuttled back to lean against the wall beside the shower.

My phone vibrated on the floor. Brody was calling. I declined the call. I clutched the razor in a death grip. I didn’t want to fall back into bad habits, but the siren call of cutting through the panic with a clean, precise blade was overwhelming.

I needed this. I needed to be able to breathe.

Still, I hesitated. This felt like a failure. After all these weeks of taking better care of myself, I was failing.

A knock at the door had me jumping.

“Selena. What are you doing in there?”Brody?Why had he come looking for me already? I checked my watch. An hour had passed? How? Time stretched and had no meaning. The world had stopped turning, and I watched it from outside.

He banged on the door, the loud noise startling me.

“What are you doing?” he demanded.

Then the murmur of conversation. Cal’s voice. Then Brody tried the handle of the door again.

“If you don’t let me in, heathen, this door is a goner.”

I couldn’t speak. I was too locked into a game of chicken with the mother of all panic attacks. If I looked away now, it would get me.

“Fine. I’m coming in,” Brody said finally, and then a loud thud vibrated the entire room. Once, twice.

I watched the door slam inward with the third thud. He’d kicked it in. The wood around the handle was all splintered.How strong is he?

He walked in, his eyes immediately zeroing in on me in the corner. He stilled, taking in the razor, the blood.