"No way!"


    "I can''t do it!"


    "Forget it!"


    M stared at Miranda, stunned for a couple of seconds, then blurted out three rejections in a row, almost by reflex. Seriously, what kind of terrible n was this?


    As if things weren''t chaotic enough already.


    She just wanted some peace of mind!


    "M."


    Miranda wasn''t giving up. She grabbed M''s hand, her voice quivering with urgency. "Think about it. That maniac—he''s like a rabid dog, always chasing after you, never letting go. He even faked his own death! Who knows what he''ll try next? Can you really predict what he''s going to do?"


    M fell silent.


    Of course she couldn''t predict him. But she didn''t need to-nothing good had evere from his schemes, not today, not in the past.


    And whatever he was nning now, it was nothing she wanted any part of.


    He was always like this.


    Miranda saw her hesitate and pressed on, "Ask yourself, why does it always turn out this way? Because you''ve spent your life trapped in this giant game he''s constructed, always on the defensive, always the prey."


    M''s brow furrowed.


    She said nothing, just listened.


    "You know why you''re stuck?" Miranda continued. “Because you''re always running. Even if you''re not actually fleeing, you still think of yourself as prey. You''re afraid of him, always afraid of the hunter."


    M wanted to argue,


    opened her mouth, but the words wouldn''te.


    She couldn''t argue.


    Lysander had shaken her to her core, time and time again. He''d never raised a hand to her outside the bedroom, but mentally, he''d twisted her up until she barely recognized herself. Even now, long after it all should have been over, the fear he''d carved into her was instinct-she flinched at his shadow.


    A devil lurking in the darkness.


    Always there.


    She truly was afraid of him.


    "So, as long as you can''t root out that fear, nothing''s going to change. You''ll never


    be free of him." Miranda''s words kepting, relentless.


    "Wait."


    M finally managed to interrupt, "This isn''t just about psychological scars or whatever. He''s actually back in my life, right now. I want him gonepletely. I''l handle my own nightmarester. But the idea you''re suggesting? It''s the exact opposite. You''re throwing me to the wolves."


    She couldn''t ept it.


    "Just hear me out," Miranda insisted. "These scars are already hurting you, M. They''re forcing you to keep ying the victim, letting him attack you again and again. If this keeps up, you''ll never get what you want. It''ll only get worse."


    "Is that what you want?"


    Miranda lifted her chin, locking eyes with M, speaking each word with deliberate rity. "Do you really want to keep living like this? Looking over your shoulder, never knowing a moment''s peace?"


    She reached out, palm up, revealing a delicate pink-and-white rose she''d brought from M''s bedroom. The second M saw the flower, she stiffened, her gaze darting away. Miranda''s eyes sharpened.


    "M."


    "Look at you. One little flower, and you''re terrified out of your mind. Is this really how you want to live the rest of your life?"


    M pressed her lips together, silent.


    "M, trust me." Miranda lifted the rose, her voice soft yet fierce. "Just try it my way, just once-who says the prey always has to stay the prey? Who says the hunter can never be hunted?"


    "I know you''re scared of him. But do you have any better ideas?" Miranda pressed. "You''ve tried everything else. You know as long as you see yourself as a victim, there''s nothing you can do. He''ll keeping for you, again and again."


    "You''ve hit rock bottom already. So why not try something new? Flip the game. Take control. Hunt him."


    "Make him yours tomand."


    "Take him down-once and for all!"


    Miranda crushed the rose in her fist,


    petals splitting, pink juice dripping down her slender fingers, staining the white bedspread a faint, diluted red-like blood. The sight jolted M, left her stunned.


    Hunt him?


    Hunt Lysander?


    Who, her?


    Her heart thudded wildly in her chest.


    But...


    A pulse throbbed at her temples. Something about all this felt dangerously off, but Miranda''s words had scrambled her thoughts, left he reeling. It took her a long moment to find her voice. "But... but ift do that, aren''t I just digging my own grave? I don''t want anything to do with him anymore..."


    She finally managed to catch her breath.


    Miranda''s logic wasn''tpletely wrong, but M only wanted to get rid of Lysander-live a quiet, normal life. If she followed Miranda''s advice, switched from hunted to hunter, and went after Lysander herself. wasn''t that just asking for trouble?


    Even if she seeded, then what?


    If he figured it out, he''d be furious-and that would be a real disaster.


    And if she pulled it off...


    What on earth would she do with someone like him?


    Was she out of her mind?


    Setting herself up for misery?


    "You don''t get it," Miranda sighed. "He''s after you again, and you can''t shake him. So why let him treat you like prey? Be the hunter. Take contro Once you''re in charge, he''ll have to do what you say. If you tell him to leave, he will!"


    "Oh, really?"


    M tilted her head, skeptical.


    She couldn''t imagine Lysander ever listening to her, leaving just because she


    asked him to. Not even in her dreams.


    More likely, she''d be the one ruined.


    It all sounded a little too far-fetched.


    "Of course! Trust me!" Miranda thumped her chest, grinning with confidence. "Aren''t you always wondering how I can be separated from Rnd after marrying him, and he never dares to confront me or drag me back home?"