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Chapter13
After helping Sienna Quinn unpack, Chase Rylan returned to his own empty dorm room.
He didn’t sleep at all.
The night dragged on until gray dawn, the same two images stuck in his mind. Mrs. Whitmore’s matter–of–fact voice at the desk, and Lydia Rivers’s closet–doors flung open, not a single thing inside.
At first light, he shot upright, grabbed his jacket, and ran to the registrar’s office.
Mr. Clarke glanced up as Chase barreled in, rifled through the freshman roster, then shook his head.
“Chase, we told you yesterday. There’s no ‘Lydia Rivers‘ in this year’s Liberal Arts intake.”
“That’s impossible.” Chase snatched the booklet and flipped page after page, eyes skimming every line.
Not even a name came close.
His voice trembled as the paper rattled under his hands.
“We filled out our Northbridge applications together. I watched her submit. How could she not be here?”
“Maybe she declined her spot,” Mr. Clarke said, setting his pen down. “It happens every year. Students get in and choose something else.”
Something better?
No. For Lydia, his side was supposed to be the best choice.
Chase staggered back against the cool wall. He didn’t want to remember the thirty–three missed calls from the alley, the moment he turned his back by the river, or the blank look in her eyes outside county holding…
There had been a trail, hadn’t there? A string of disappointments she’d gathered, until there was nothing left to gather.
He pulled out his phone and called everyone who had ever known Lydia–classmates, friends, even their old homeroom teacher. Every answer was the same. Can’t reach her. Don’t know where she enrolled.
One classmate hesitated, then said softly, “Before she left, I, um… saw her throw away everything you ever gave her. She said… she didn’t want any ties to you anymore.”
The words hit like a punch to the gut.
Chase sank against the corridor wall outside the office and laced his fingers into his hair. For the first time, he understood–plainly, painfully–that he had lost the girl who used to see no one but him.
Days blurred.
He drifted through lectures on autopilot, ate without tasting anything, refreshed his phone whenever he had a second–waiting for any notification from Lydia.
Even an insult would have been better than nothing.
His phone stayed silent.
Only Sienna’s messages kept popping up.
Every day she cited another flare of her craving for touch, tugging him to wander campus, to sit with her in the cafeteria, to keep her company during study hall. When she introduced herself to the class, she said–pointedly,
“Chase and I are really close. He’s always looked out for me.”
When a girl from their major tried to talk to Chase after class, Sienna rushed over and clamped onto his arm.
Chapter 13
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“Don’t get near him. He’s mine.”
Chase peeled her off, frowning. “Don’t say that.”
“I’m not lying,” Sienna pouted. “My condition only you can treat. Doesn’t that make
He had once found her pitiful. With Lydia gone, he found her demands exhausting.
you mine?”
She wanted him in the library to save seats, in the cafeteria every morning with breakfast, on her arm whenever she felt “unwell.” The reason never changed. I feel awful–only you make it better.
That afternoon, she dragged him out for a vanilla milkshake. On the way, they ran into the girl who liked him. Sienna immediately stepped between them, glare sharp.
“I said he’s mine. Why are you still hovering?”
The girl flushed and fled. Chase watched her go, and something in him snapped. He shook Sienna’s hand off, his voice dropping to ice.
“Sienna, what exactly are you doing?”
She froze, eyes instantly glassy. “I–I just don’t feel good and wanted you with me.”
“Don’t feel good?” He held her gaze, each word deliberate. “Do you actually have skin hunger? Since when does it flare whenever it’s convenient?”
Her eyes flickered. She looked down, fingers twisting in her shirt hem.
“Of course I do–or why else would I… would I keep coming to you? I can’t control when it happens. Are you saying you think I’m lying?”
Before she could finish, Chase’s phone buzzed.
A message from a friend abroad.
It was just a photo and one line. Saw a girl in London who looks like the one from your posts. Is this her?
In the photo, Lydia stood outside Alderton Books in a white button–down, sunlight pooling across her shoulders. She was smiling— lightly, easily–the way he hadn’t seen in a very long time.
Chase’s heart slammed against his ribs. Every scrap of irritation evaporated, leaving only urgency,
He didn’t spare Sienna another glance. He broke into a run for the campus gates, calling his friend as he went.
“Where are you exactly? Stay with her–don’t let her leave. I’m booking a flight right now.‘
“Chase!” Sienna shouted behind him. “Where are you going? I’m still not feeling well!”
He didn’t look back.
One thought pounded through his skull, bright and blinding.
Find Lydia. Tell her I’m sorry.
Whether she forgave him or not he had to find her.
He owed her that much. And more.
Chapter 13