Chapter 177: Grace: Fake It Til You Make It

I collapse where I am, curling my knees to my chest. My throat still feels tight.

Caine must think I’m certifiably insane. What kind of person freaks out the way I did? And the moment he grabbed my wrist, I shut down completely.

It wasn’t like he hurt me. It wasn’t like he did anything wrong. He was trying to talk to me in private. Perfectly understandable.

And yet my entire body reacted like he was about to throw me into traffic.

I slide up the bed until I can bury my face in a pillow.

"I’m losing it."

It’s the only explanation.

I smack my forehead against the pillow once. Twice. Three times. Maybe if I hit hard enough, I can knock some sense back into myself.

Heat crawls up my neck and spreads across my cheeks. Caine was so worried and gentle, he’d even asked if I thought he would hurt me. Of course I don’t think he’ll hurt me.

Well—not anymore, anyway.

"You’re crazy. You’ve gone insane. You’ve lost your mind."

Each sentence is punctuated with a frustrated thump of my face into fluff.

The embarrassment is almost worse than the sudden spike of fear. Now, anyway.

My heartbeat gradually evens out, and the flush of heat going up my neck and prickling along my scalp recedes.

But the self-loathing stays.

It doesn’t make sense. Caine wasn’t yelling at me. He didn’t grab me with any real force. Sure, I couldn’t pull away easily, but it wouldn’t have been impossible.

Nothing about the situation should have triggered such a level of panic.

So why did it feel like—

mold

Please let me out.

I’ll be good.

promise I’ll

head violently, forcing the memory back where it belongs. Locked away. Buried deep, where

different. Completely different. It was a big

Rafe said it was my

cruel and strange and somehow thinks he’d have Ellie on

shake it off again, refusing to linger

rogue wolf is not the

sigh before pushing myself up,

is childish. Get over

the fake

Me.

I’m people.

me), I suck in a deep breath and let it out

one way out

and

maybe Caine won’t say

prone to freaking out when he

he wasn’t

supposed to be getting

my eyes, watching the colorful shapes bounce around behind my eyelids. Focusing on them makes it easier to calm down and slow

Okay.

she didn’t have an absolute fucking meltdown when her boyfriend dragged her to a private room to discuss

off my face, but my cheeks

off the bed, I approach the dresser mirror, leaning in to

someone auditioning to play

Grace. You’ve faked being okay a thousand times. This is

out and roll my shoulders

Take two.

pleasant: Bun’s excitement every time we hand her a carrot

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