Freya Arsov sits on top of a world of diamonds and sports cars. Her father is a billionaire, head of a world-renown company, her mother, an esteemed lawyer. She attends the most prestigious boarding school in England. She has four amazing best frien...
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AMELIE FLEW TO HER FEET WHEN the warehouse door opened.
She and the others, with Anakin Graves, had been sitting around a rickety table, on chairs in the form of wooden crates. She'd almost felt bad for Anakin, having to deal with their incessant questioning, but he barely answered any of it, so she didn't feel too bad.
"Freya!" She cried, eyes widening at the image that walked through the door, a step behind Matthew.
"Are you okay?" Juliet gasped, walking around the table to face the pair.
The girl, whose light blue eyes took in her surroundings, the crates and containers and the few gang members, with a detached interest, didn't look much like their Freya. The grey Versace dress she'd left Ebony House in was severely rumpled and, much to Amelie's immediate horror, stained dark red at her hip. Her first thought was to look for where Freya was bleeding. But she wasn't bleeding. Amelie glanced at Matthew's knuckles, dark with dried blood.
Freya didn't answer them, Amelie wondered if she'd heard. She turned her eyes to Matthew first, who frowned under that gaze, as if telling him something wordlessly. "She doesn't want to go back yet," he told them, holding Freya's stare.
Amelie's fists curled then. She advanced on him. She didn't care if he was some big bad gang leader, as today's events would suggest, didn't care that his hands were currently blood-stained. She only cared about Freya, who didn't even blink their way, eyes far away, hands curled slightly at the hem of her dress, the skin at the dress's sleeve, red. Freya, who she couldn't allow to be hurt.
"You've got a lot of nerve," Amelie snapped at Matthew. "Who do you think you are anyway?"
"Amelie," Freya's voice cut the air. It wasn't sharply spoken. No, it was frail compared to her usual sharpness.
Amelie knew Freya wasn't invincible, she'd seen her lows, so she knew that voice. She'd just never heard her use it in front of so many people, away from the secret shadows of her bedroom floor. The fact that her voice was cracking before them all made Amelie's blood chill.
"Go home," Freya told her tiredly.
"Not without you," Maye stepped in. She surged toward Freya, hand extended, but their friend shied away, taking an unsteady step back, eyes flashing. Maye's hand dropped immediately and her brow creased worriedly.
Freya gave a slow, weary shake of her head, curling her hands around her chest. Her hair fell into her face, concealing whatever was painted there, but they all could guess.
"Freya, he's been lying to you," Raina stated, waving a hand Matthew's way. Matthew's shoulders tensed but he said nothing, eyes only surveying Amelie's unmoving friend.
Freya didn't even respond to that. She just looked down at her shoes and said, "Go home, guys. I'll come eventually. I just一 can't yet."
All three of the others except Amelie opened their mouths to object, but Amelie held up a hand, silencing them, even Maye. She realised that being pushed was the last thing Freya needed right now.
