Chapter 36

Alice

The first thing I did when Cecilia said we could go anywhere was laugh.

Not a happy laugh—more like the kind that bubbles up when you're so desperate for something that the idea of actually having it feels like a cruel joke.

"Anywhere?" I repeated, my voice cracking.

Cecilia nodded.

"Anywhere."

I stared at her, trying to process the weight of those words. Anywhere. When was the last time I'd been allowed to choose? When was the last time someone had asked me what I wanted instead of telling me what I was allowed to have?

"The pier," I blurted out, the words tumbling over themselves before I could second-guess them. "I want to go to the pier. There's this arcade—I used to go there before… before everything. Can we go there?"

Cecilia's face softened, and she reached over to squeeze my hand. "Yeah. Let's go."

The drive to the pier felt surreal, like I was watching someone else's life play out through a windshield.

I wasn't bracing myself for the moment Max would text or call, demanding to know where I was and who I was with.

I was just… here.

When we pulled into the parking lot, I practically threw myself out of the car, my legs unsteady beneath me as I stumbled toward the boardwalk.

The smell of salt air and fried food hit me like a wave, and I had to stop for a second, my vision blurring with tears I didn't know I'd been holding back.

"You okay?" Cecilia asked, appearing at my side with that quiet, unshakable presence of hers.

I nodded, swiping at my face with the back of my hand. "Yeah. I just—I forgot what this felt like."

She didn't ask what I meant. She just looped her arm through mine and steered me toward the arcade entrance, where neon lights flickered and blinked in cheerful defiance of the afternoon sun.

Inside, the noise was almost overwhelming—the electronic beeps and chimes of games, the laughter of kids running past, the clatter of skee-ball machines and the tinny music blaring from the prize counter.

For the first time in a year, I feel…I'm still alive.

"What do you want to play first?" Cecilia asked, already pulling a wad of cash from her wallet to exchange for tokens.

I looked around, my eyes landing on the basketball hoops in the corner, the ones I used to dominate back when I was a kid with too much energy and not enough sense to be afraid of anything. "Those," I said, pointing.

Cecilia grinned. "You're on."

We played for what felt like hours, laughing and trash-talking each other as we racked up points and traded shots.

Cecilia was terrible at basketball—her form was all wrong, and half her shots didn't even hit the backboard—but she didn't care.

She just kept shooting, kept laughing, kept making stupid jokes that had me doubled over and clutching my sides.

After the arcade, we wandered down the boardwalk, stopping at every food stand that caught my eye.

Cecilia bought me cotton candy and funnel cake and a giant pretzel that I couldn't even finish, and she didn't say a word when I stuffed my face like I hadn't eaten in days.

She just smiled and ate her own ice cream, occasionally stealing bites of my food when she thought I wasn't looking.

"You're a terrible thief," I told her, swatting her hand away from my pretzel.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," she said, her expression perfectly innocent.

I laughed, the sound bright and unrestrained, and for a moment, I forgot about everything else.

I was just Alice. And I was happy.

We were sitting on a bench overlooking the water, watching the waves roll in, when my phone buzzed in my pocket.

I froze, my entire body going rigid as I pulled it out and saw Max's name flashing on the screen.

Cecilia didn't say anything. She just glanced at the phone, then back at me, her expression carefully neutral.

I stared at the screen, my thumb hovering over the answer button. Part of me wanted to pick up—wanted to explain where I was and what I was doing and promise I'd be home soon, just like I always did.

But another part of me, the part that had been slowly suffocating under the weight of his control, wanted to throw the phone into the ocean and watch it sink.

In the end, I did neither. I just let it ring until it stopped, then shoved the phone back into my pocket and turned my attention back to the water.

Cecilia didn't ask. She just reached over and squeezed my hand, her grip warm and steady.

By the time the sun started to set, Cecilia insisted on buying me a leather jacket I'd been eyeing—soft and worn and covered in patches that looked like they'd been collected over years of adventures I could only dream about.

"You don't have to—" I started, but she cut me off with a look.

"I want to," she said firmly. "Besides, it looks way better on you than it does on the mannequin."

"Thank you," I said again, my voice thick with emotion.

Cecilia just smiled and handed the cashier her card.

We were loading shopping bags into the car when my phone buzzed again. This time, it wasn't a call—it was a text.

Max: Where the hell are you?

My stomach twisted, and I felt the familiar spike of anxiety clawing its way up my throat. But before I could spiral, Cecilia's phone rang.

She glanced at the screen, her expression hardening. "It's him."

My hands clenching into fists.

Cecilia answered the call, her voice cool and controlled. "Hey, Max."

I couldn't hear what he was saying, but I could imagine it—his voice tight with barely suppressed anger, demanding to know where I was and why I hadn't answered his calls.

"She's with me," Cecilia said calmly. "We stayed outside the whole afternoon. She needed a break."

There was a pause, and then Cecilia's expression shifted, her eyes narrowing.

"Actually, Max, I wanted to talk to you about that. Alice got pretty upset today. Some people said some really cruel things to her, and as her friend, I think it's my responsibility to make sure she's okay. Don't you agree?"

Another pause. I held my breath, waiting.

"Good," Cecilia continued, her tone deceptively light. "Because Alice's happiness is what matters here, right? That's what you care about, isn't it?"

The silence on the other end stretched on for so long that I thought the call had dropped. But then I heard Max's voice, low and strained, saying something I couldn't quite make out.

Cecilia's expression softened, just slightly. "I'm glad we're on the same page. I'll make sure she gets home safe. You don't have to worry."

She hung up, then turned to me with a small, satisfied smile. "He says he'll be waiting for you at home."

I stared at her, my throat tight. "The things you said..."

"The truth," she said simply. "That you deserve to be happy. And that anyone who doesn't agree with that can fuck off."