Valerie's POV
Luke stared at me like I'd just knocked the air out of his lungs.
The noise around us hadn't fully died down yet, people whispering, chairs scraping, someone muttering "What the hell just happened?" but the space between us felt sealed off, tight and heavy.
"I—I didn't send that," Luke said, breath uneven. "Val, I swear."
I laughed once. Short. Humorless.
"Then why did you run?"
His mouth opened, then closed again. He scrubbed a hand over his face, clearly overwhelmed.
"Because you started chasing me," he said finally. "You shouted. Everyone turned. I panicked."
"That's it?" I snapped. "That's your explanation?"
"Yes," he shot back, a crack of irritation breaking through his confusion. "You looked like you were about to tackle me. What was I supposed to do? Stand there?"
I held up my phone between us, the screen still glowing.
The message.
{Good job, Valerie. You're really The Viper.}
"Explain this," I said flatly.
