Chapter 35

• Renee was walking home now, striding quickly down the busy streets, the cold air rushing past her face. She was shaking—not from the chill, but from the adrenaline dump of the confrontation. The image of Taylor Thorne, knuckles bloody, jacket discarded, standing over the enraged, potato-tossed man, was a raw, unwelcome intrusion into her mind.
• She needed to stay sane, and there was only one person who could handle this kind of insane drama. She pulled her phone from her coat pocket, her fingers fumbling slightly, and dialled Camila.
• It rang twice before Camila’s cheerful, slightly breathy voice answered.