“Okay, tell me what you found out.”

“Really?” She grimaced. “Right now? While you’re here?”

“I can’t think of a better time, or a more needed distraction. Plus, this room has been a revolving door of visitors. You staying with me a little longer gives me a reason to avoid the other stalkers.”

“Okay.” Her eyes lit up as her techno-speak kicked in. I caught a word here and there, but for the most part she lost me.

“Bottom line?”

“Oh, right. Okay, so bottom line is that your cyber bully is actually pretty stupid. She started one of the original accounts from her work email at the University of Colorado at Colorado Springs.”

“Wait. She?” It wasn’t Harrison?

“She is most definitely a she.” Avery pulled a piece of paper from her back pocket. “Michelle Proctor.”

Oh my God. Of course. His whole damn family worked for the CU system. “She works in the registrar’s office,” I whispered as everything fell into place.

“Yeah! How did you know?” She handed me the paper.

“Because I hurt her very badly without even knowing it.” The paper felt soft in my hands. Frail.

“Hurting someone doesn’t excuse what she’s been doing to you. Nothing does. You need to call the University and tell them. You need to stop her.”

“Maybe I deserve it.”

Avery’s eyes narrowed. “Okay, now that’s bullshit. You have to do something, Sam.”

I shook my head. “You don’t know what you’re asking me to do. I’d have to go back to Colorado—”

“Which you’ve wanted to do anyway,” she interrupted.

“Right, but not like this. I’d have to face a disciplinary hearing, and everyone would know the thing I’m most ashamed of. Could you imagine that? Walking into your school and telling them the most embarrassing thing you’ve ever done?”

“You mean like handing the hottest football player in school a pencil that asked him to homecoming?” She arched an eyebrow.

“This is different. This is putting my most private shame on a public stage.”

“Which has got to suck. I’m not saying it doesn’t. But what about the others?”

My chest tightened. “What others?”

“There’s at least five other email addresses that she’s sent similar emails to. I bet she’s done the same thing to their transcripts, too. And I also bet that they don’t have the slightest clue she’s the one doing it. If you won’t stand up to this girl for yourself, then stand up for them.”

Other girls? I wasn’t the first. “When was the last email sent?”

“She started attacking another girl about two months ago.”

I wasn’t the last, either.

“I’m just saying that I know this girl, and she’s amazing. A great tutor, and an even better friend. She ran into a tornado to save me. A tornado! If she could do that, she could do this. Maybe you should ask her.” Her eyes bored into me in an open challenge.

Five other girls were going through the same thing I was. Five girls who couldn’t get into colleges, or move on with their lives. Five girls who had their futures stolen all because they made the same stupid mistake and slept with the wrong man.

I had to go back to Colorado.

“Do you mind if I say hello?” Grace asked from the doorway.

“W-what are you doing here?” I asked, then shook my head. “I’m sorry, that was incredibly rude. I blame the pain meds.”

She gave me a soft smile and then claimed the chair next to my bed. “We were driving to Texas for testing, and Gray asked if I would swing by and check on you.”

“You went hundreds of miles out of your way?”

“He’s my best friend, no matter what’s happened, and the woman he loves won’t take his phone calls. So yeah, that’s worth a few hours to me. And I wanted a moment with you that wasn’t an awkward phone call.”

“So awkward drop-in visits are better?”

“Jury’s still out,” she said with a laugh. “So, you’re feeling better?”

“It’s been a few days, and I’m out of ICU. No brain swelling, so they think I might be able to go home tomorrow.”

The phone in my room rang, and I ignored it. “Did you want me to get that?” Grace asked.

“No.”

“Oh, okay.” We sat in silence until it stopped ringing.

“So Texas?” I asked, trying to move conversation along.

She nodded. “Yeah, they need to poke me like a lab rat.”

“You are the miracle,” I said with a smile. Maybe it was a little forced.

“Not really.” Her smile fell. “The treatment made it possible for me to wake up, that’s true…but…”

“But you were always aware,” I finished.

Her eyes snapped to mine. “Yes. How did you know?”

“You told Morgan that One Tree Hill had been played out and the last season ruined it.”

She blinked at me.

“The last season of that show came out while you were in your coma. Mia had them play it for you after she read about that guy who’d woken up after a twenty-year coma or something, and he’d been forced to watch Barney.”

“Oh. No cartoons, those were awful.”

“How long were you aware for?” I asked.