PAIGE It's Tuesday night. Nine o'clock. I'm on the couch with Sadie, a bowl of popcorn between us, some reality show playing on the TV that neither of us is actually watching. I've been talking for twenty minutes. Maybe longer. Telling her about the dream again. The guns. The shouting. The shot that woke me up screaming. "Girl." Sadie shakes her head, grabbing a handful of popcorn. "I almost had a heart attack when I found you in the kitchen at 4 AM. You looked like you'd seen a ghost." "Might as well have." I pull my legs up, wrap my arms around them. "I can still hear the gunshot, Sadie. Like it's stuck in my head." "That's trauma, babe. Your brain processing guilt in the worst way possible." I groan. "Don't say the G word." "What else would you call it? You're dating three men, sleeping with—" She stops herself. Counts on her fin
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