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“You can and you will. Just imagine everyone naked or something.”

“That’s not helping.” I tug nervously at my scarf, feeling like all the oxygen has suddenly been sucked out of the room.

Sienna puts her hands on my shoulders and looks me square in the eye.

“Look at me,” she orders. “If you want to bail on this whole thing, I’m not going to stop you. But I also don’t want you to miss out on an amazing experience just because it scares you. Anything worth doing is always a little scary. And that’s okay. But you, Max Usher, can do this. I know you can. Just pick one friendly face in the crowd and read only to that person. Hell, it could even be me,” she jokes. “Just be your beautiful, authentic self. They’re going to love you.”

“Okay.” I manage a smile even as tears sting my eyes at her words. “I can do that.”

“Good. Now chop-chop before Mrs. Trott has a conniption fit.”

I let out a breath and walk over to the stage, where a small table sits beside my chair. Several copies of my books are propped upright on little wooden display stands with their covers facing the crowd. Next to them is a bottle of water and a reading copy waiting for me.

When I finally lift my head and scan the crowd, my racing heart instantly begins to slow. And it’s all thanks to the man leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest. Milo catches my eye and gives me a little wink, as if to say, You’ve got this.

And somehow, that’s all it takes to give me the courage to address the room.

“Good evening, everyone. I’m sorry I kept you waiting.”

“Worth it!” someone calls from the back, earning a ripple of laughter from the crowd and helping some of the tension leave my shoulders.

“Thank you all for coming. Truly. I don’t think I was prepared to walk in here and see so many of you.” I let out a nervous laugh. “Which is probably obvious by the fact that I’m currently trying very hard not to panic.”

That draws a few more chuckles.

I glance down at the book in my lap before finding Milo again.

“But I was given some very good advice a few minutes ago. I was told to find one friendly face in the crowd and pretend I’m only reading to them.”

Milo’s smile widens.

“So, if it’s okay with you, I’ll do just that.”

And just like that, the rest of the room falls away.

I open my book and start, “Crashing Echoes. Epilogue.”

Chapter 22

Fairhope, 21st September 2013

Just as I suspected, when I got home last night, my house key was no longer in its hiding spot.

They thought of everything before they ambushed me.

Now here I am, lying in bed, tossing and turning, imagining the worst.

What could they possibly do to me that they haven’t already? They took what was most valuable to me—my stories. Isn’t that enough?

Apparently not.

I stare at my phone on the bedside table and contemplate calling Sienna to come over. But she’s got her own problems with the Reds. Burdening her with mine would just be selfish.

I could always call Milo.

And say what?

Sorry I broke my promise and didn’t go to your game last night, but can you come over because your psycho stepsister and her friends threatened me?