Chapter 22
Bree
The sun poured down in warm, lazy waves, coaxing me into the kind of afternoon where time seemed to stretch just for me. My legs were tucked beneath me, book balanced in my lap, my
focus completely devoured by the pages.
Not the kind of book I’d normally pick up.
Usually, I’d be buried in a romance-something with a healthy dose of spice and a possessive male
lead who didn’t take no for an answer. But The Glass Hours was nothing like that. There were no
sultry touches or shameless smirks between characters, and yet… it had me. Completely. The quiet mystery of it wove itself around me, pulling me deeper and deeper until I was gulping down
the words like they might vanish if I looked away.
Maybe that was the real beauty of bookclub-being shoved outside your comfort zone and
stumbling into something you never knew you’d love. A book that tingled your brain, hooked your
eyes, and set your pulse hammering for reasons that had nothing to do with lust.
“Bree?”
The sound of Rachel’s voice snapped me back to reality. She stood just a few feet away, sunlight
catching in her hair, but the look on her face was wrong-tight, uneasy, like something heavy sat in her chest. My stomach immediately dropped.
“Can you come with me? Derek and I need to talk to you.”
We need to talk.
Those words were universal, weren’t they? No matter the language, no matter the tone-no one
wanted to hear them. They were the kind of words that knotted your stomach before you even
knew why.
“Okay?” I murmured, slipping a bookmark between the pages before closing The Glass Hours and
pressing it to my chest like it might shield me from whatever was coming.
Rachel didn’t elaborate. She just turned and started walking, and I had no choice but to follow,
dragging my feet away from the little bubble of sun-warmed comfort I’d found.
Camp life was sprawled out in front of me as we moved. It seemed like no one had classes right
now-just clusters of people making the most of the day. A group of girls lounged under the shade of a wide oak tree, legs stretched out on blankets, giggling while one painted another’s toenails. Off to the side, Caleb and Miguel tossed a football back and forth with a few others, their laughter carrying easily on the summer air. Somewhere nearby, a guy strummed a guitar, and a handful of girls sat close, leaning in, captivated by every chord.
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This was what camp was supposed to be, wasn’t it? Different people finding each other, letting the walls down, having fun without overthinking every second. A place that was high on emotions, low
on inhibitions.
And somehow, I’d found a spot in it too.
It had been easier than I expected, especially after that morning run when Miguel and Kenneth had made me laugh so hard I could barely keep pace. Since then, more people had started smiling at me in passing, striking up conversations like it was the most natural thing in the world. I’d almost
started to believe that I fit here.
Almost.
Because underneath that, I knew there were people like Gabriella-smiling on the surface but dripping poison underneath. People who reminded me too much of Jenna back home. Jenna, who bullied her way into popularity, who ruled the school like a dictator, when she could’ve had just as
much power by showing compassion.
It made me wonder-if more people understood that you could kill with kindness, how much easier life would be. Maybe all those years I’d been tormented, used as a free pass to get through class, could’ve been avoided if people learned to beam at the world instead of trying to break it.
Rachel’s steps slowed, pulling me from my thoughts. We’d stopped in front of a cabin, and the moment I saw who was standing on the porch, the color drained from my face.
Gage.
His arms were folded tight across his chest, jaw set, and there was a weight in his expression I
didn’t like. He looked… nervous. Which was not a word I ever thought I’d use for him.
Derek stood nearby, his usual easy demeanor replaced by something far more serious. His brow
was furrowed, mouth drawn into a hard line.
“Come on in, Bree,” Rachel said, offering a small, almost apologetic smile.
My eyes darted to Gage again-just for a heartbeat-but it was enough to see it: the tension in his
stance, the way his gaze held mine for a fraction too long before dropping.
Stepping inside, I realized this had to be Rachel’s cabin.
The space was cluttered but lived-in-books stacked on shelves and spilling onto tables, titles ranging from chemistry textbooks to well-worn novels. A framed photo rested on the nightstand beside the bed, showing Rachel mid-laugh with a man’s arms around her, both of them radiating happiness. Clothes were spread across the bed in neat piles, as if she’d planned her outfits days in
advance.
“Sit down,” she said, gesturing to the couch.
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I obeyed, still clutching my book to my chest like armor. Inside, everything rattled-my stomach twisting, my heart thudding, my nerves buzzing under my skin. My body was screaming for fight or flight, and I’d never been much of a fighter.
Rachel glanced at the book, her expression softening. “Are you enjoying it?”
“I am,” I said, nodding quickly, grateful for something normal to talk about. “It’s very different from
what I usually read, but it’s got me hooked.”
I tried not to notice the way Gage leaned in the doorway, watching me, or the way Derek dragged a
chair closer to the coffee table, his attention locked on us.
“Bree,” Derek said, pulling my attention to him as Rachel shifted beside me, her posture a little
slumped like she already knew I wasn’t going to like whatever was about to happen. “It’s come to
our attention that you’ve been keeping something from us.”
My eyes darted to Gage before I could stop myself. He didn’t hold my gaze for even a second-his
head dropped instantly, like the weight of my stare was too heavy.
And that was all it took. I knew.
He’d told them.
He’d told them what happened-despite the promise he made me. That I’d been kicked out. That
Gabriella had been the one to do it. That I’d been sleeping outside like some stray animal. He’d
gone against my wishes, gone against my pleads.
“Tell us what happened, Bree,” Rachel said softly, her voice coaxing me like she was afraid I’d bolt.
Her hand found my thigh, warm and steady, a careful kind of touch that didn’t push but invited. She
started tracing slow, gentle circles just above my knee. The simple motion sent a pang through me
-it was something my mom used to do when I was upset. That memory, that comfort, cracked
something in me.
“Gabriella kicked me out of our hut a few days ago,” I whispered, my eyes locked on the movement
of her thumb. “She told me I couldn’t stay in there, so I slept outside… on the bench behind the hut.”
“Goddammit,” Derek muttered under his breath. In my peripheral vision, I saw him rub both hands
over his face like he was trying to erase the words he’d just heard.
“Last night, after the bonfire, Gage followed me back to the hut,” I continued, my voice hitching.”
And when I couldn’t get in-” I stopped there, letting the rest hang in the air, too heavy to say aloud.
I didn’t dare look at any of them. My focus stayed on Rachel’s thumb drawing those circles, her touch grounding me in a moment that felt like it could unravel into panic if I let it. She didn’t pull
away. Didn’t pause. She just kept going, like she knew I needed it to keep talking at all.
“Why didn’t you tell us, Bree?” Rachel asked. Her tone was soft but not pitying-more like she
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wanted to hear everything, like she could handle the mess of it.
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I shook my head. “I didn’t want anyone to know.” My throat felt tight, like the words had to fight their way out. “I didn’t want…” I trailed off, unwilling to give voice to the real fear-that if I told them, Gage would look at me differently. That he’d start treating me like a problem to solve instead of a person. I didn’t want to be some charity case he felt obligated to fix.
“You can’t stay with the guys, Bree,” Derek said, leaning forward slightly, his voice firm but not cruel. “And we can’t have you staying outside either.”
I looked up at him then. His jaw was tight, his brow furrowed, and I could see the effort it took for him to keep his tone controlled. Underneath, there was anger-on my behalf, maybe-and regret.
“Please, don’t send me home,” I said quickly, the words spilling out before I could even think them through. My voice was pleading, desperate. “I can’t go back home. Please, I’ll do whatever it takes. I can sleep in a tent, I don’t care. But please, just… don’t send me away.”
He sighed, leaning back in his chair again, rubbing over his face with both hands. I could feel Gage’s eyes on me, heavy and searching, but I refused to meet them. I didn’t want to see confirmation of my fear-that he’d betrayed me. That the one person I thought I could trust had decided he knew better than I did. It only reinforced what I’d been telling myself since Oliver-that it wasn’t safe to hand someone the pieces of you, because they’d take them and do whatever they
wanted with them.
“There are no other spots, Bree,” Derek finally said, his voice heavy with finality. “We can’t have you
living in a tent for the next five weeks-it’s against camp policy, and it’s not safe. And we definitely can’t put you back in your old hut without dealing with what happened.”
My chest tightened. The stinging in my eyes threatened to spill over, but I fought it. I thought of my
mom-how she’d react if she knew. She’d storm down here, tearing into Gabriella without a second
thought, maybe even going after her parents. She’d scream, she’d threaten, she’d make sure
Gabriella never pulled something like this again. And while a part of me loved her for that loyalty, another part dreaded the chaos it would cause.
“You can stay with me,” Rachel said suddenly, her voice breaking through my spiraling thoughts. I
blinked, turning to look at her. She was smiling now, and it wasn’t forced-it was warm and sure,
like she’d already decided. “Yes. You can just stay here, Bree. It’s perfect.”
“Rachel, she’ll be here every night if you agree to this,” Derek warned, his tone more caution than
command.
“And what a blast that will be,” she shot back without missing a beat, her eyes narrowing at him playfully before she turned back to me. “I haven’t had a sleepover since college. We’ll talk about boys, about books, about anything we want. What do you say, Bree? Want to shack up with me for the rest of camp?”
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A tear slipped free before I could stop it, sliding warm and slow down my cheek. Relief hit me so hard it made my shoulders sag. She didn’t have to do this. She didn’t have to give up her privacy,
her space, her quiet nights. But she was offering anyway.
“Yes, please,” I whispered, my voice cracking under the weight of everything I’d been holding back.
“That’s the spirit,” she said, grinning as she pulled me into a tight hug. I clung to her for a moment
longer than necessary, letting myself sink into the safety of it.
