Page 167 of The Exit Strategy

“How is this happening again?” I demand. “Does no one take accountability anymore?”

Fen raises a brow.

“I’m taking accountability!” Shouting isn’t called for, but I haven’t slept.

“Now,” Hud mutters under his breath.

She’s pitting herself against Junie—someone with a public history of unstable behavior—regardless of the truth.

Fen moves to the next slide.

Natalie’s tagged Junie’sI’m.Not.Sorryaccount on a photo of her disabled brother. She’s making sure that anyone who saw Junie’s TikTok will draw their own conclusions about who has a vendetta and whose brother is now paying the price.

“That bitch,” Hudson growls.

“She just tagged Junie an hour ago,” Fen says. “She’s desperate.”

My gaze snaps back to Junie’s apartment. She’s had this notification for an hour. She’s seen this. Junie’s up there alone, in the dark, knowing the woman who tormented her in school, who blackmailed me, is now weaponizing her disabled brother in the war she’s waged against Junie for longer than I’ve realized.

Junie’s going to have to decide what to do with that. And I can’t protect her from it.

“You can’t try to fix this, Cole.” Fen’s tone has gentled, but he doesn’t leave any room for argument. “Junie will survive this, but you have to let her.”

“What do we do in the meantime?” Hudson asks. “Because this defies reason. How is it even possible for it to be happening again?”

“Don’t engage, don’t comment,” Fen says. “Don’t even look at it again until I tell you to. The strategy here is to let Natalie dig herself a deeper hole, and I know that goes against your every instinct, Cole, but it’s tactical. Trust me. I’ve already confirmed that the Meridian story will break early Tuesday morning.” He waggles his brows. “I’m not above a little bribery for our Spite-Berry, and when it goes live, Natalie’s post will age very, very badly, very, very quickly. I already have the statement drafted that will go out under your name when that happens. Are you with me?”

My gaze hasn’t left Junie’s dark windows. “I’m with you.”

“Good.” He stands and looks across the driveway. “She still in there?”

“Yeah.”

“You’ve been stalking her window?”

“All night.”

Fen exhales. “We’ll get her back, Cole. Not today. Probably not next week. But we’ll get her back because she’s family and you’re family and that’s what we do.”

I have no doubt that we’ll keep the family together. I just don’t know what my relationship with Junie will be when that happens. One option is eternal light, and the other? Well, the other option will just be a different shade of hell made from the same foundation as my last six years.

Nolan doesn’t arriveuntil almost nine that night. I’ve only left my position to shower, and that was just because Hudson forced the issue.

My friend has been on planes for nineteen hours. Tokyo to Detroit to Charleston, with a layover so tight he had to run through two airports—at least that’s what I heard from the Juniper & Her Berries group chat.

According to Fen, Hudson not-so-subtly told Nolan it was time to come home last week after both Junie and I asked him for help. He rallied the troops before he understood the war.

By the time Nolan rolls out of the rideshare in the dark, his shoulders are slumped, and it’s not from the weight of the small carry-on in one hand or the phone charger dangling from the other. He’s hampered by truth.

The driveway floodlight catches him, and he pauses to look up at me.

He doesn’t sayyou fucking idiot. He doesn’t call me a coward. Nolan simply walks up the driveway with the slow, careful gait of a man whose body has been crammed into an airplane for too long and whose heart is being pulled in two different directions—north, where his sister’s been broken in public twice now, and south, where his best friend is waiting to have their first fully honest conversation in years.

He climbs the porch steps in silence and sits next to me. “Hey, Cole.”

“Hi.”

He looks toward Junie’s apartment. Her windows are still dark, but thanks to Nana Mae and Katie, we at least know she’s awake, moving, and has food, even if she’s not eating it.