“Give her some time,” Howard says. “I know it’s hard, but like with how you’re still healing over your addiction, your sister needs time to heal, too.”

The woman nods, anxiously thrumming her fingers on her knees. “I hope so. I really do . . . I miss her.”

I think about my own parents at home and wonder if they’ll ever forgive me for the stuff they discovered about me today. I doubt it. They were already upset from finding the stuff. But when they pressed me for how I got the money for everything, and I couldn’t come up with answer—other than to say my friends gave me all the stuff, which I would never do—they somehow put two and two together.

“You stole it, didn’t you?” my mom asked, but it wasn’t a question. Somehow, she just knew her daughter was a thief. “I should’ve seen this coming.”

“This is partly your fault.” My dad put some of the blame on my mom, which surprised me. Usually, they blamed me for everything. “Clearly, you haven’t been controlling her enough.”

“I’ve been trying”—she slammed her fist against the table where all my stolen stuff was piled—“but she’s uncontrollable. She doesn’t do what she’s told. I don’t think it’s something that can be fixed. She might not be able to be fixed.”

Shock ricocheted through me. Never in my life had I seen her so . . . out of control.

“Well, she definitely doesn’t get that from my side of the family,” he said, shoving his chair back from the table to stand up. “Find a way to fix her.”

I expected her to make me burn all the stuff, but I should’ve known it wouldn’t be that easy. After all, she did warn me that, if I messed up again, the punishment would be worse than burning my clothes.

Going to the sessions for a week is only the start. I’m also not allowed out of the house except to go to school, to the sessions, and to the library for an hour a day. The last part was only a stipulation because I told my mom I had a school project to work on that required after school time with a group who is meeting at the library. Part of me lied just so I could get a break from the house, but I also didn’t want to back out of tutoring Grey when I had promised him I would.

Still, that’s not my biggest problem. I’m basically on my parents’ version of house arrest, which means I’ll be around them more. This will only make me want to steal more, but I’ll have less of an opportunity to do so.

Crap. What am I going to do? How am I going to deal with this?

“Luna, the session is over.”

My palms are damp with sweat as I blink out of my trance. To my surprise, almost everyone has cleared out of the room.

Grey is standing in front of me with concern in his eyes. “You kind of zoned out. Are you okay?”

I glance at the time and realize I have five minutes to get home. The only way I’ll make it is if I run.

“Crap, I’m going to be late.” I spring from the chair as panic sets in.

Grey has zero time to move out of my way, and my chest collides with his as my forehead knocks into his chin.

“Shit,” he curses as he trips back, clutching his chin.

I slap my hand over my mouth. “Oh, my God, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine.” His face is contorted in pain as he rubs his chin.

I glance from the door to him. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m positive.” He lowers his hand, and his lips tug into a joking smile. “You have a really hard head, though.”

I let out an edgy laugh, my gaze darting to the door again. “I know I’m going to sound like a jerk, but I have to get home, like, right now; otherwise, my mom’s going to add on more to my punishment.”

“You don’t sound like a jerk at all, and I swear I’m okay.” He waves at me to go.

I shoot him a grateful look then rush for the door. “Sorry I bumped you in the head,” I call out.

He strides with me, flattening his palm against the door to open it for me. “Are you still going to be able to make it to the library tonight? Because it’s okay if you can’t. I’ll understand.”

The instant I step outside, I pause. My instinct is to run into a store, but shit! I don’t have time.

It feels like a weight is crushing my chest as I turn away from the stores and speed walk toward the corner of the street. “No, it’s cool. I told my parents I had a group project I have to work on.” I pause at the end of the sidewalk, deciding which route is the quickest. “Which way’s faster?” I mutter, dragging my fingers through my hair.

“Where do you live?” Grey appears by my side. I tell him my address, and he ponders something for a second before he veers to the right. “Come on. I know a shortcut.”

I run after him, my sneakers thudding against the concrete. “One that will get me home in three minutes?”

“That all depends.”

“On what?”

He shoots me a challenging grin. “On how fast you run.”

He takes off, and I race after him. People walking through the neighborhood openly gawk at us as we sprint past them, laughing. When the sidewalk reaches a dead end, Grey doesn’t slow down, running straight for a six-foot, wooden fence that separates the neighborhood from a small tree area. He stops when he reaches the fence and crouches down with his hands linked.

“Hop on and I’ll boost you up,” he says, barely out of breath.

I trip to a stop, gasping for air. I really need to start exercising more.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to hurt you or anything.”

He gives me an are-you-kidding-me look. “I think I can handle it.”

I prop my foot into his hands and grasp on to the top of the fence. He grunts as he stands up and hoists me up. I get my balance then jump down onto the other side, landing in the dirt on my hands and knees. Then I trip to my feet and stumble for the trees.

I hear a soft thump behind me as I barrel into the trees. I glance over my shoulder and see Grey jogging after me.

“What? Did you think I was just going to let you wander into the forest by yourself when it’s almost sundown?” he teases as he gets ahead of me and runs backward down a dirt path that cuts straight through the trees. “Just what kind of a guy do you think I am?”

“I have no idea.” I might have thought I had an idea, but I’m not so sure anymore.

He smiles, like he reads my thoughts, then reels around and quickens his pace. I struggle to keep up with him and his ridiculous athletic skills.

“How did you know about this shortcut?”

“I take it home sometimes,” he answers with his eyes on the path ahead.

“I thought you drove your truck to school?” I ask, but instantly realize my mistake.

He glances out of the corner of his eye at me. “How do you know I drive a truck?”

I give him what I hope is an indifferent shrug. “Doesn’t everyone around here know what everyone drives?”

“Yeah, I guess so.” His head tilts back as he gazes up at the pale pink sky.

I study his profile, his lips I once dreamed of kissing, his scruffy jawline I’ve always wanted to run my fingers across, his skin that looks so soft and is somehow not drenched in sweat like mine is right now. I’m not sure how I got to this moment, running home with a guy I’ve secretly liked since forever who saw me steal, saw my parents chew me out. Saw that I’m not the nice girl everyone thinks I am. Why isn’t he running in the opposite direction?

“I don’t have my truck anymore.” Pain emits from his eyes. “I sold it when my dad died. It sucked, too, because he was the one who gave me the truck.”

“I’m so sorry. That had to be hard, giving up something he gave to you.”

“It was, but we needed the money.” His gaze fastens with mine. “No one’s noticed I don’t have my truck anymore, not even any of my friends.”

“Really? Not even Logan?” I ask breathlessly as I swat branches out of my way.

He shakes his head. “Logan’s a self-centered dick. The only way he’d noticed my truck is gone was if he suddenly needed a ride somewhere.”