Ivey's POV
Weeks have passed since the kidnapping and nothing much has changed. I still fear Josh, but now I have found comfort if I am with Lucas or Kyla.
Progress right?
Anyway Kayla was now insisting on taking me to the weekend school retreat — a pre-break bonding trip at some scenic outdoor camp.
When she first introduced it. I laughed. Hard. The last thing I needed was to be stuck in the woods with a bunch of classmates pretending they were all suddenly best friends.
But Kayla had this way of asking that felt more like insisting.
"You need fresh air," she said.
"You need to feel normal again," she added.
And eventually: "I'm not going without you."
So, I went.
At first, it was fine. Peaceful, even. The camp was tucked between hills and pine trees, with little cabins, a lake that sparkled, and skies clearer than I'd seen in ages. We played dumb games, made fun of the counselors, and roasted marshmallows over a big fire pit.
And for a while — just a little while — I forgot everything.
Until I saw.
Him.
Josh.
He was across the fire. Leaning against a tree like he hadn't nearly ruined my life just weeks ago. He looked different — quieter, hair slightly longer, eyes scanning the crowd. And then they landed on me.
He started walking over.
My chest tightened. My lungs stopped working.
Kayla wasn't beside me — she was grabbing something from the cabin.
I was all alone.
I could barely breathe.
Josh was still coming.
I stood up too fast, the stool clattering behind me, and backed away.
"Ivey," he said gently, almost pleading. "I just want to talk."
I didn't even answer. I turned and ran — through the trees, past the cabins, up the hill where the firelight couldn't follow.
And that's when I saw Lucas.
He was sitting on the railing near the main lodge, hoodie pulled tight around him, sipping from a paper cup. His eyes caught mine, and he was up in an instant.
"Ivey?"
I didn't say anything. I didn't need to. The look on my face must've said enough because he opened his arms without hesitation.
I crashed into his chest, trembling, clutching at his hoodie like it was the only thing keeping me upright.
"He was there," I whispered. "Josh. He came up to me. Tried to talk to me like none of it happened."
Lucas's whole body tensed. His arms tightened protectively.
"I've got you," he said. "You don't have to talk to him. Not now. Not ever."
I didn't stop crying for a long time.
For the rest of the night, I stuck to Lucas like glue — walking beside him, barely saying much, just needing him close. Kayla gave me a knowing look but didn't press. She understood.
Eventually, the group drifted into their cabins, the fire reduced to embers. Lucas and I stayed behind, sitting on the porch steps, watching the trees sway in the wind.
My head rested against his leg, my breathing slow but uneven, eyes heavy.
"I'm sorry," I murmured.
"For what?" he asked softly.
"For being a mess."
"You're not a mess," he said. "You're surviving."
I didn't answer. I couldn't.
I must've fallen asleep.
Because I didn't remember the moment my body went still, but I felt his hand brushing gently through my hair. I felt the press of his lips on my cheek. Once. Then again.
And then I heard his voice — low, almost a whisper, like a secret slipping between the pine trees.
"Stop crying, Ivey," he whispered, his voice raw and trembling. "It's killing me. Every tear — it's like I'm the one getting hurt."
There was silence, except for the wind and my uneven breath.
"I'd take it all from you if I could," he added, almost broken. "Every nightmare. Every scar. I'd carry it just so you wouldn't have to."
His words sank into me like warmth through ice. But I stayed still. Eyes closed. Breath caught.
Because if I opened them — if I looked at him now — I knew I'd fall apart all over again.
And this time, I might not want to come back together.