Page 102 of What Comes Around

“Hold on. Let me see that bracelet.”

I extended my arm, and she reached for the bracelet Knox had given me, turning it slightly.

“You said he gave you this?”

“Yes. There’s a matching necklace too.”

Amy’s fingers paused. “I’m pretty sure there’s a tracker in here.”

I pulled my hand back instinctively. “What?”

I looked at the bracelet, turning it over, studying every detail. “Why would you think that?”

“I’ve seen something similar,” Amy said. “On a site that sells tracker jewelry. They didn’t look identical, but the design elements were close.”

I stared at the bracelet, running my thumb over the clasp. The gold caught the light innocently.

Amy raised a brow. “Does it not bother you that Knox tagged you like a lost pet?”

I considered the question. Surprisingly, the answer came easily.

“Weirdly… no. It doesn’t. But it would have been nice if he told me.”

Amy shook her head. “You are strange. I would be furious.”

I looked down at the bracelet again.

Maybe I was.

But the idea that Knox always knew where I was did not feel like a violation.

It felt like protection.

That same evening my phone buzzed with a message from Amy: a link and a short comment. This has Apple written all over it.

I tapped the link. A TikTok opened. A small tea channel, nothing huge, but loud enough to stir trouble. Dramatic music played as the video began with a picture of me.

The narrator said, “Remember Ashley? The MMA champion Leo girl, the one he called out at his press conference? Looks like she got a nose job to get back into the spotlight.”

I blinked.

The video cut to photos taken from far away. Me standing outside my house. My nose still taped. Bruising under my eyes. The week I had been home recovering.

The narrator continued, “Since Leo stopped mentioning her, she is clearly trying to stay relevant.”

The rest was just as ridiculous. Wild speculation, fake timelines, an entire story built out of nothing.

The only true part was that Leo had mentioned me weeks ago after his win, and the internet had gone crazy trying to figure out who I was. People made videos, theories, edits. Then it faded.

I never posted anything. I never fed it.

Behind me, I heard footsteps. Knox had been in the kitchen, but the TikTok narrator’s voice must have carried.

“What is that nonsense?” he asked.

I turned. “It’s nothing.”

Knox held out his hand. “Give me the phone.”