“I... Pll be right out, Daya. I’m so sorry,” I respond, forcing my gaze away back to my surroundings, trying to gather my bearings. Which is really hard to do in a house of a million mirrors. She takes a deep, calming breath. “Okay, I'm sorry. I’ve just been really scared, Addie.” I flinch as a different kind of tsunami overwhelms me. This one 1s filled with every negative emotion imaginable. Guilt. Shame. Regret. "I'm really sorry, Daya. I'll see you in a few." I hang up the phone and immediately start walking off in the direction I think I’m supposed to be going in. “Wrong way, little mouse. Follow me,” Zade says, his deep tenor causing me to tense, my shoulders rocketing to my ears. He’s finished dressing and is heading in the opposite direction. Stiffly, I turn and follow after him. Not asking or caring how he knows where to go, as long as he gets me out of here. After fifteen tense minutes, we find the exit door and I rush out, the cold air a balm to my heated face. The fair is a stark difference to when I came in. The field is completely devoid of life. Not a single soul on the grounds nor any lights. How long were we in there for? I check the time, and my eyes bug when I note that it’s twelve-thirty in the morning. Two hours! I’ve been in there for two fucking hours. Sure, half of that was getting through the mirrors but szi//. Normal people don’t fuck for that long, do they? Zade is somewhere behind me, so I glance over my shoulder and say, “Don’t follow me out. Daya is waiting for me, and I don’t want her to see you.” Even I can detect the coldness in my voice. The entire fifteen minutes it took to find our way out, all I could think about is how I want to fuck him again. And that scares the absolute shit out of me. It was the reality check I needed—a very stark reminder that I just had sex with my stalker. I shouldn't have let any of that happen. I feel his hand clamp around my wrist a second before he whips me around. I stumble into him, but he catches me quickly, wrapping a hand tightly around the back of my neck. “I’m late for a date with a psycho girl anyways,” he says easily. My eyes round and he smiles when he detects the anger in my eyes. “Don’t be jealous, little mouse. It’s not a real date. She’s not my type of crazy. Despite the fact that she’s not you.” I scoff. “I’m not jealous. Let me go,” I snap, attempting to pull away from him.