Unravel Me: The Juliette Chronicles Book 2

I don’t want to make eye contact with anyone right now. I can’t even imagine what they must’ve heard about the damage I’ve caused. I know I’ve managed to confirm all of their worst fears about me.
    “They’re only afraid of you because they don’t know you,” Sara says quietly.
    “Really,” Sonya adds. “We barely know you and we think you’re great.”
    I’m blushing fiercely, wondering why embarrassment always feels like ice water in my veins. It’s like all of my insides are freezing even though my skin is burning hot too hot.
    I hate this.
    I hate this feeling.
    Sonya and Sara stop abruptly. “Here we are,” they say together.
    We’re in front of our bedroom door. I try to unlatch myself from their arms but they stop me. Insist on staying with me until they’re sure I’ve gotten inside okay.
    So I stay with them.
    And I knock on my own door, because I’m not sure what else to do.
    Once.
    Twice.
    I’m waiting just a few seconds, just a few moments for fate to answer when I realize the full impact of Sonya’s and Sara’s presence beside me. They’re offering me smiles that are supposed to be encouraging, bracing, reinforcing. They’re trying to lend me their strength because they know I’m about to face something that isn’t going to make me happy.
    And this thought makes me happy.
    If only for a fleeting moment.
    Because I think wow, I imagine this is what it’s like to have friends.
    “Ms. Ferrars.”
    Castle opens the door just enough for me to see his face. He nods at me. Glances down at my injured hand. Back up at my face. “Very good,” he says, mostly to himself. “Good, good. I’m happy to see you’re doing better.”
    “Yes,” I manage to say. “I—th-thank you, I—”
    “Girls,” he says to Sonya and Sara. He offers them a bright, genuine smile. “Thank you for all you’ve done. I’ll take it from here.”
    They nod. Squeeze my arms once before letting go and I sway for just a second before I find my footing. “I’m all right,” I tell them as they try to reach for me. “I’ll be fine.”
    They nod again. Wave, just a little, as they back away.
    “Come inside,” Castle says to me.
    I follow him in.

THIRTEEN
    1 bunk bed on one side of the wall.
    1 single bed on the other side.
    That’s all this room consists of.
    That, and Adam, who is sitting on my single bed, elbows propped up on his knees, face in his hands. Castle shuts the door behind us, and Adam startles. Jumps up.
    “Juliette,” he says, but he’s not looking at me; he’s looking at all of me. His eyes are searching my body as if to ensure I’m still intact, arms and legs and everything in between. It’s only when he finds my face that he meets my gaze; I step into the sea of blue in his eyes, dive right in and drown. I feel like someone’s punched a fist into my lungs and snatched up all my oxygen.
    “Please, have a seat, Ms. Ferrars.” Castle gestures to Sonya’s bottom bunk, the bed right across from where Adam is sitting. I make my way over slowly, trying not to betray the dizziness, the nausea I’m feeling. My chest is rising and falling too quickly.
    I drop my hands into my lap.
    I feel Adam’s presence in this room like a real weight against my chest but I choose to study the careful wrapping of my new bandage—the gauze stretched tight across the knuckles of my right hand—because I’m too much of a coward to look up. I want nothing more than to go to him, to have him hold me, to transport me back to the few moments of bliss I’ve ever known in my life but there’s something gnawing at my core, scraping at my insides, telling me that something is wrong and it’s probably best if I stay exactly where I am.
    Castle is standing in the space between the beds, between me and Adam. He’s staring at the wall, hands clasped behind his back. His voice is quiet when he says, “I am very, very disappointed in your behavior, Ms. Ferrars.”
    Hot, terrible shame creeps up my neck and forces my head down again.
    “I’m sorry,” I whisper.
    Castle takes a deep breath. Exhales very slowly. “I have to be frank with you,” he says, “and admit that I’m not ready to discuss what happened just yet. I am still too upset to be able to speak about the matter calmly. Your actions,” he says, “were childish. Selfish. Thoughtless! The damage you caused—the years of work that went into building and planning that room, I can’t even begin to tell you—”
    He catches