Chapter 1

I have a poor sense of direction. I can go to the same place ten times and still not know how to get there.

So, Aimee Thornton spends an entire week putting all the streets around school into a hand-drawn map for me. There are no directions on the map, only places named "The Convenience Store With the Yellow Dog at the Door" and "The Old Man Who Sells Terrible Tacos".

She ruffles my hair and muses, "How is this one going to survive without me?"

But everything changes when our friend, Dean Sullivan, comes home from abroad.

During our trip, Aimee tells me to get out of the car and check if we've skidded. My feet have just touched the ground when the car speeds off.

She texts me the next second. "There's a rest area about three miles ahead. Dean and I will wait for you there. Dean has a point. You'll never get over your poor sense of direction if I don't give you a push."

I end up trekking through the torrential downpour for an hour, desperate and panicking. Aimee suddenly sends me a hand-drawn map with an arrow, and she's added a cute smiley face beside it.

"Follow the map, and you'll be there in 20 minutes."

Alas, I walk until my calves ache, only for the road to narrow and cut off in a dead end. I call Aimee, but Dean's lighthearted laughter greets me instead. "Hey, man, congratulations on taking the wrong way!

"I made a bet with Aimee that you wouldn't notice the arrow she'd drawn on the map was deliberately pointing in the opposite direction. As it turns out, I know you better than she does.

"And that means I'm the only one she gets to hang out with for the rest of the trip, since having you tag along will be too much trouble."

I hear Aimee's indulgent laugh going off beside him. "A bet's a bet. Whatever you say goes, Dean."

The price of codependency is too much for me—so much so that I'll be lost if Aimee decides to up and leave me.

I wipe my tears dry. I want to find my way alone this time.

Chapter 1

It was already late at night when I followed the navigation app and stumbled home.

The route Aimee Thompson had pointed out to me on the map took me past an abandoned factory. When I fell, a steel wire had cut my ankle. It might have impaled my foot had it not missed by a mere hair's breadth.

Blood and muddy water dripped onto the floor. I barely had any strength to change out of my shoes, and it was all I could do to grip the shoe cabinet for support as I caught my breath.

Mom was startled to find me in such a state. She anxiously ran up to me and clutched my arm to steady me. "What happened to you, Nathan? Aimee told me she was bringing you guys on a road trip!"

I lowered my head and took in the torn-up skin and flesh of my ankles.

I told Mom the whole story, and her gaze darkened bit by bit until disbelief gradually filled her eyes. She muttered, "That's not like her at all. She'd take the long way to pick you up on her bike and drop you off at school before your SATs so you wouldn't be late.

"And she was so frantic when you got lost in college that she almost called the cops. She even told me she'd buy a place somewhere you could find with your eyes closed in the future."

Hand trembling, Mom wiped the muddy water off my face. "How did Aimee turn out like this? I watched her grow up."

I cut her off, "That's enough, Mom. I want to study abroad."

She carefully tended to my wounds. "Alright. I'll get the paperwork sorted. We'll move as far away as we can."

Later that night, my wound became infected, and I ran a high fever of 102°F. In my feverish daze, I overheard Mom speaking on the phone in the living room.

"Aimee, I only let Nathan go on the road trip with you guys because you promised me you'd take good care of him! He nearly lost a foot because of you! Is that your idea of 'taking care' of him?"

I couldn't hear what Aimee said on the other end of the line, but Mom was so furious that she threw her phone on the ground.

My phone buzzed beside my pillow.

"Janice just gave me a fierce talking-to over the phone. I didn't think you'd be so weak as to run a fever like this, Nathan. I promise I won't abandon you the next time, okay? Get well soon."

Chapter 2

A notification suddenly popped up at the top of the phone screen.

Dean Sullivan was a travel blogger who'd amassed a small amount of fame, and he liked to post about his travels regularly. This time, he'd posted nine photos, all taken at the beach.

His shoulder was slightly dipped to shield Aimee from the sea breeze. She was beaming as she held a glass of cold beverage with a slice of lemon on the rim.

Dean's fans had since taken over the comment section by storm.

"Is this a hard launch, Dean? The lady next to you has a gorgeous side profile!"

"That figure is perfect! I need to see her full face."

Dean only replied to those with a grinning emoji.

It wasn't long before Aimee's name appeared in the comment section, too. "Don't run off on your own, or you'll get lost in this unfamiliar place."

Dean replied to her instantly, "I'm not too worried about that. You'll find me if I'm really lost."

I stared at the screen, my fingertips spasming.

I clicked on Dean's profile and scrolled down until I reached the timeline from last New Year's Eve.

Aimee had told me she was working overtime at the company because of a year-end audit, so I microwaved a frozen pasta meal in my rental unit and watched TV as I counted down to the new year.

The photo Dean had posted last New Year's Eve had been taken by the river. His and Aimee's hands were intertwined as they watched the dazzling fireworks light up the sky. The photo was captioned, "Kicking off the new year with the most reliable person by my side."

This Valentine's Day, Aimee had given me a projector that displayed a starry sky. She told me she'd had the device specially made for me, but I wasn't all that keen on starry skies.

Half a year ago, Dean had posted about the same projector and written above the photo, "She always knows what I want."

I closed my eyes. A coppery taste rose in my throat.

Raising my wrist, I felt for the silver bracelet that came with a tracking function. When Aimee clasped it around my wrist, she'd told me it was her way of knowing where I was and that she'd find me wherever and whenever.

I forcefully tugged at the bracelet until it snapped, then tossed it in the trash.

Three days later, the dressing on the wound on my ankle had been changed, but it still hurt a little when I walked.

Mom had headed off to the education consultant's to ask about expediting my application to study abroad. Aimee had the spare key to my house, so she let herself in. She'd brought a delicately packaged black forest cake with her.

"Is the fever gone?" she asked.

"Yeah."

She set the cake down on the coffee table and reached out to ruffle my hair out of habit. "Janice only lashed out because she was worried sick. I already apologized to her."

I dodged Aimee's touch, but that only earned me a sigh of exasperation from her. "Are you still upset?"

"No."

I wasn't a big fan of sweets. Dean was the one who loved cakes.

"Get changed. I'm taking you out."

"To where?"

"A new immersive escape room just opened in Southdale. Dean wants to go, so you'll come with us," Aimee replied casually.

"I'm not going," I refused outright.

Aimee's voice turned icy. She practically dragged me out the door. "Dean even saved you a ticket. He's trying to make up for what he did the other day. If you don't come with us, who'll want to invite you in the future?"

Dean was already waiting at the escape room lobby when we arrived. Upon seeing me, he immediately came over and tried to wrap an arm around my shoulders. "Nathan! I've missed you, man. I was bored out of my mind during the trip without you to hang out with me. Aimee left me high and dry, the traitor."

Aimee shielded me. "His ankle's hurt. Don't touch him."

Dean made a funny face. "Got it. Trust you to fuss over Nathan, Aimee."

"Well, of course. Who will fuss over my boyfriend if not me?"

The escape room attendant handed us blindfolds. We put them on and shuffled to enter the escape room.

I brought up the rear of our little group and clapped a hand on Aimee's shoulder. Through the fabric of the blindfold, I could sense her holding Dean's hand as she led him forward.

"Mind the step," she said quietly to the person ahead of me.

I tripped and nearly fell, but she didn't look back.

Chapter 3

We took off our blindfolds. There were only two flashlights in the escape room, and they barely illuminated our surroundings.

Dean yelped, then quickly clutched Aimee's hand. "I'm scared, Aimee! Promise you have my back?"

Aimee gripped his hand and let out a low laugh. "Come on, you were the one who picked the horror theme! What happened to all that bravado?"

"I don't care. If you won't have my back, I'm calling our friendship quits!" Dean whined.

"Alright, fine. Hold on tight, then."

They were behaving like a lovesick couple, bantering in the dark, eerie room without a care in the world.

The attendant had only provided us with two flashlights. Aimee took one, and Dean held the other. I had no choice but to follow them, keeping track of my surroundings using what little light peeked through their hands.

The pain shooting up my ankle forced me to walk slower.

"Slow down, guys. My ankle's hurting," I complained.

"The escape room operates on a time limit. Try to cope."

They stopped when we reached a fork in the path. After exchanging a brief look, they switched off their flashlights at the same time.

The world was plunged into a suffocating darkness.

"Aimee? Dean?" Panic seized me as I reached into the darkness around me, only for my fingers to graze thin, cool air.

They'd run off, leaving me behind in this pitch-black, forsaken labyrinth.

I pressed a hand against the wall and continued forward tentatively. At that moment, a non-player character with her face covered in blood suddenly leaped out from the corner and screamed in my face.

A scream tore free from my throat as I fell back, collapsing on the ground. Tears streamed down my face uncontrollably.

The non-player character stopped mid-performance when she realized how hard I was sobbing. She took off her mask. "Hey, buddy, are you okay?"

Whipping out a walkie-talkie, she summoned a few other members of staff to the scene. An attendant showed up ten minutes later with a flashlight and led me out of the escape room through an emergency pass.

The door of the escape room swung open, and I narrowed my eyes against the blinding sunlight. Aimee and Dean were standing in the lounge by the exit, the latter holding a cold bottle of soda as he leaned against the former's shoulder, his eyes on the contents of her phone.

He snickered when he saw how frightened I looked. "Oh, come on, Nathan, you can't be that much of a coward! I can't believe you'd need an attendant to escort you out of the escape room!"

Aimee's brows furrowed. "Why were you escorted out? Don't tell me you didn't manage to get your bearings in a confined space like that!"

Tears still clung to my face. "Why did you switch off your flashlight?"

Aimee explained matter-of-factly, "It's exposure therapy for you, Nathan. I need to give you a push, or you'd never know your left from right. When will you finally develop a sense of direction?"

Dean leaned close to me, grinning. "Don't be mad, Nathan. We didn't abandon you this time. We waited for you at the exit and never left!"

I ignored them and made to leave, but Dean suddenly stretched his foot and tripped me. I fell on the ground, my wound ripping open. Fresh blood trickled down my ankle.

Dean lifted his camera and aimed it at my face. "Check it out, guys. My buddy was so scared that his legs turned to jelly after he left the escape room! He's literally tripping over his feet on flat ground. It's hilarious!"

He laughed as if it were the funniest joke in the world, the flashes from his camera making me see stars.

Aimee stood beside him. She looked as if she might say something when her gaze landed on my bleeding ankle, but she fell silent in the end.

She didn't help me up, only shot Dean a cool look as she said nonchalantly, "Give him a break. He's easily embarrassed."

I felt as if shards of glass had been embedded deep in my chest, cutting me every time I breathed.

I shot to my feet and snatched Dean's camera from him. "Stop taking photos of me!"

The camera clattered to the floor in the middle of our tug-of-war, and Dean was sent flying back by inertia.

A dark look crossed Aimee's face as she shoved me aside and quickly pulled Dean behind her. "Are you out of your mind, Nathan? Dean was just fooling around with you! Did you have to destroy his equipment?

"Do you have any idea how important that equipment was to a blogger like him?"

I leaned against the wall and took big, rough breaths. "Yes, the equipment is more important than I am."

Aimee froze.

With my wound still trickling blood, I limped out of the lobby.

Chapter 4

The house was empty when my friend drove me home from the hospital.

"Mom?" I called out, but no one answered.

I plopped down on the couch. I took out my phone to call her, but no sooner had the screen lit up than a notification from my social media's "Near You" feature popped up.

"Famous Blogger Dean Sullivan Reveals His Best Friend's Mom's Dirty Secret!"

"Family Trait? A Homewrecker's Son Carries Out Her Legacy!"

Dean's profile picture lingered at the most obvious spot. He'd posted a long, vicious rant. "Some people are born with the need to take what belongs to others. He was my best friend, but who could've thought his mother was a homewrecker with a streak?

"It's no wonder he… Well, I'd hate to describe my best friend as such."

He'd attached evidence to the post, too, including screenshots of fabricated conversations, blurry images of bank transactions, and even a photo of a marriage certificate between my dad and someone else.

Denigrating remarks flooded the comment section.

"Holy crap, Dean has it rough! He's got a snake for a buddy."

"Like mother, like son. It's no wonder he clings to another man's girlfriend. I ran into Dean and his girlfriend the other day at an escape room, and the guy was hovering behind them, stalking them!"

"I say we expose the mother and son's home address!"

My blood ran cold, and my hand trembled even as it clutched the phone.

Years ago, Dad, Peter Huntley, threw a grand wedding and duped Mom into marrying him, but he'd always make up excuses to delay getting their marriage certificate.

It wasn't until his actual wife showed up one day with a marriage certificate that Mom realized she'd been made into a homewrecker. The actual wife had brought an entourage with her and caused a scene in the neighborhood, lifting banners and vandalizing Mom's house.

Mom broke down, and out of desperation, she swallowed an entire bottle of sleeping pills.

I guarded her bedside at the hospital day and night, nursing her back from death.

I'd only ever told one person about Mom's story. Aimee was the only one who knew about it.

Shaking all over, I called Aimee.

"Nathan, have you calmed down?"

"What's with the trending topic?" I demanded.

There was a beat of silence on the other line. "You smashed Dean's camera, and he wouldn't stop crying. I had no choice but to tell him Janice's story to cheer him up. I didn't expect him to put it online."

I hissed through gritted teeth, "Make him delete it."

Aimee sighed. "I'll say yes to anything you ask but that. Dean's a blogger. If he deletes the post, he may as well confess to making up rumors. Are you trying to ruin him?

"The topic will die off in a few days. Plus, people online will forget about it soon. As for Janice, everything's already in the past. She doesn't go on the Internet, and at her age, the post won't cause her any harm at all…"

I stopped listening to Aimee and hung up.

I made one frantic call after another to Mom, but her phone had been switched off. All I could think of was the hopeless look in her eyes before she swallowed all those sleeping pills years ago, and that was enough to make me break into a run toward the rooftop.

"Mom!" I got on my knees and reached for her. "Mom, get down from there, please! I'm begging you! Come down!"

Mom shook her head, a bitter smile curving her mouth. "Even when I'm gone, you'll still have Aimee. She makes mistakes sometimes, but I know she truly loves you. She'll take good care of you, Nathan."

"No, that's not true!" I screamed, agony and desperation edging my voice. "Aimee's the one behind all this! She doesn't love me. She only cares about Dean!"

Upon hearing this, Mom froze. Her moment of hesitation was all I needed to lunge forward and pull her into safety.

Mom pulled me into a tight embrace, sobbing, "My poor Nathan! I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry I misjudged Aimee!"

I buried my face in the crook of her neck. "Let's get out of here, Mom."

When we got home, I packed all our documents and essentials in a suitcase as fast as possible. Then, I hailed a cab to take us to the airport.

From now on, Aimee wouldn't be on any of the paths I took.