Chapter 22 The Meeting I Don't Want

Jace stares at the message like it’s a knife pointed at both of us.

Dean Harlow.

My phone feels heavy in my hand, like it’s made of lead instead of plastic. The room seems to shrink around us—walls tightening, air thinning.

Jace doesn’t move. Doesn’t breathe.

“Why would the Dean…” My voice break...

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