Victoria's POV

Max had been acting weird since that morning. She was being strangely distant and almost cold as we drove to the coffee shop down the street from our apartment, staring out the passenger side window in silence. I wasn't sure why she was acting so weird, but I decided not to take it personally. She was going through a lot of tough shit and she probably didn't want to dump it all on me. So I was going to do everything I could to try and make it easier and be as understanding as I was capable of being.

I clicked a button the steering wheel, one of Max's favorite songs coming on over the speakers. It was some song that was slow with lots of guitar and a guy singing who sounded like he had a few marbles in his mouth, but I didn't mind. It was relaxing music, even if it wasn't my favorite. Max looked over at the dashboard then at me and I smiled at her out of the corner of my eye, taking her hand in mine. I felt her shaking against my hand and my heart ached. I wished with everything I had that she didn't have to go through this, that she could just have a normal life with all the normal stresses people like us were supposed to have. I'd have given anything to take her pain away. I'd have taken it on myself if I had to. It would be worth it to see her smile and laugh and just live without this shadow following her around like a curse. She didn't deserve this kind of thing. Especially not after everything she went through. Everything she gave up.

We parked in front of the little coffee shop and I turned to see Max staring blankly out at the parking lot, her features tense and rigid. Leaning over the center console, I took her chin in my hand, turning her head towards me. Her watery grey eyes locked with mine, pleading with me like I was forcing her into something she really didn't want to do.

"It's going to be ok," I said softly, pulling her in for a kiss. She barely moved and I could taste the salt of her tears as they rolled down her cheeks.

"I don't deserve you," she whispered, still shaking as she avoided my gaze. My heart broke a little as I looked at her. She looked broken, like she had already decided that something horrible was going to happen.

"Don't even start, Max," I replied gently, trying to sooth her as I wiped my thumb over a tear that had escaped her. "Everything will go back to normal soon. Then things like this won't happen anymore." She looked like she wanted to protest, but decided against it, her features hardening in a look determination as she gave me a little nod.

"Ok," she said, her voice shaking a little less. "Let's get this over with." I smiled, nodding before turning to get out of the car. We walked up to the front door, passing the outdoor area as we went.

"Victoria," a familiar voice greeted me, sending a chill down my spine. This was not the person I was hoping to see, but it was the one I'd expected. I turned around, seeing a man in an Armani suit sitting at one of the small outdoor tables. His graying hair was slicked back, his charcoal tinted sunglasses sitting on the bridge of his nose. He smiled politely at me, but the small smirk I saw behind it was much more unsettling.

"Mr. Prescott," I greeted stiffly, feeling Max tense beside me. "What a coincidence."

"I think you and I both know it was no such thing," he said, motioning faintly to the empty chairs at the table he sat at. "Please, take a seat so that we can get to business." I looked at Max, seeing her cheeks had grown considerably pale, her eyes wide.

"Can you do this?" I asked her, only getting the faintest nod from her as I took her hand. We walked over to the table and I pulled a seat out for Max, sitting down in the chair next to hers. We both sat across the table from Prescott, his smile never leaving his face.

"It's nice to finally meet you, Maxine," he said, sounding less calm and polite than usual. "I'd say it's a pleasure, but I'm not sure that would sound truthful under our current circumstance."

"What is this about?" I cut in, not wanting to stay here any longer than we had to. I didn't want to put Max through more trauma than needed. I could only imagine the images flying through her mind in that moment. Was she remembering the Dark Room? Was she thinking about Nathan? Was she thinking about finding Rachel's body or watching Chloe die over and over again as they scrambled to find a girl who had been dead for months?

"Ah, yes, straight to business, just like your father," Prescott replied, straightening in his chair before pulling a few files out of the briefcase that was leaned against one of the legs of his chair. After spreading the three files out in front of us, he leaned his elbows on the table, lacing his fingers together as he locked his gaze with mine. "Let's start with you, Victoria Maribeth Chase." He opened one of the files, revealing pictures of me and a man with torn up clothes and ratty hair, handing me a baggy that looked to be filled with something much more incriminating than weed. I froze, staring in wide-eyed disbelief at the picture in front of me.

"How did you -"

"How is not important," he interrupted me, causing me to bristle a little, but my fear was greater than my anger. "Why is the interesting part. But wait, I have more." Reaching for the file in the middle, he opened it, revealing several pictures and emails. All the emails had my dad's name on them, but the other name was blacked out, even though I knew that Prescott was the other person involved in the emails. "This is completely reliable evidence that your own father has committed several different crimes. One being bribery, another being fraud, a few of them having to do with money laundering and many, many more that I'm sure you wouldn't quite understand." My heart was hammering against my ribs as I looked at the file, barely able to move. "Don't look so shocked. If this gets to you then this next one is going to blow your mind." He was grinning when I looked up at him, but he was reaching for the last file before I could say anything.

When he opened it, pictures of Max and I came into view. Us at the hotel in Portland, completely naked and not exactly doing anything innocent, not to mention a few photos of similar situations in both of our dorms. That's when I snapped, getting to my feet and slamming my hands on the table as my chair clattered against the concrete.

"How dare you," I shouted, glaring daggers at him. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" He feigned innocence, looking around at the people staring at me.

"Please, sit down, Victoria," Prescott practically purred, motioning to my chair. "You're causing a scene. Just sit down for a moment, it won't take long to explain my offer." I felt Max grab my hand and tug a little, her eyes pleading with me. I sent a glare back at Prescott before grabbing my chair off the ground and sitting down again, my arms crossed over my chest. It wasn't the fact that they were pictures of me that set me on edge, it was the fact that he had to audacity to bring Max's reputation into this or our relationship as a whole.

"What makes you think this is even remotely acceptable?" I growled at him. He just grinned, leaning back in his chair.

"I have an offer for you," he said, taking off his sunglasses and looking my right in the eye. "If you refuse me now, I will reveal one of these three things to the public. If you continue to refuse, then one by one, all these things will be in the eyes of the public and your reputation, as well as Maxine's and your family's will be ruined. Your name will be ruined forever. You'll never get anywhere, at least not in the art world, I can guarantee that. As for Maxine, her name will be just as tarnished as yours. I'm sure the last thing she needs is to be known as the secret gay partner of one of the most hated, criminal photographers in the states."

"What do you want from me?" I asked, my voice shaking more than I would've liked to admit.

"I need you to testify for Nathan in court," he replied, putting his sunglasses back on. "If you don't… Well, you know what will happen if you say no." I wanted to say no. I wanted to scream in his face and tell him to go fuck himself and stay as far away from me as humanly possible. But then I looked down at the files again. Max and I in that hotel, her eyes screwed shut with my head between her legs, completely vulnerable to me and anyone who saw the image. Then there was the picture of me taking a bag of drugs that I'm pretty sure was ecstasy, but I couldn't be sure. Then there was the file with my dad's work stuff. I couldn't let all that get out. But if I testified against Max she might… She might end up in prison and I would never be able to live with myself if that happened. Especially since she didn't even have anything to do with Chloe's death. Well, not technically.

"Tori," Max whispered, taking my hand. I looked over to her, meeting her watery grey eyes. She looked defeated, her features sort of lax and her eyes downcast. "You have to do this."

"I can't." But it was weak. "This isn't right."

"You don't have any other choice," Max replied. "Please. You have to do this." I looked down at our hands, fingers intertwined. I didn't want to do this.

"Fine," I said after a few moments of silence. Prescott smirked, closing the files and picking them up to put them back in his briefcase before getting to his feet.

"That's a good girl," he said, turning to walk away. "Oh, and one more thing." I looked up to see him looking over his shoulder. "If you tell anyone about our little agreement, the whole world will know your every secret before you can blink." I couldn't think of anything to say before he walked out of earshot, so I just looked at the ground, burying my face in my hands as my eyes stung with unshed tears.

"Tori," Max whispered, her voice weak and shaky. I swallowed around the lump in my throat and looked up to meet her eyes. "We should go home." I nodded, getting up and walking towards my car. Max took my hand, her grip tight before she had to let go so we could get in the car and go home. The drive was silent, heavy. Even more so than the drive to the coffee shop. When we walked into the house, I just collapsed on the couch, burying my face in my hands and running my fingers through my hair. I held back the tears that pressed against my eyelids, the searing anger, guilt and fear that boiled and roared in my chest like raining fire. How could Prescott have done something like this? Why would Nathan let him do this? Did Nathan even know?

I heard someone shuffling around in the bedroom and looked up. Max wasn't in the living room with me, so I figured it was her in the bedroom as I got to my feet and headed to the door. Sure enough, it was Max, but she wasn't changing her clothes or making the bed or playing with Bongo. She was packing a suitcase.

My heart sank down to the bottom of my stomach, poisoning my blood with dread.

"Max?" It was little more than a whisper, but it got past my lips somehow. She froze, but didn't look up at me before continuing to throw clothes into the suitcase laid open on the bed. "What are you doing?" But she didn't say a word as she tossed a bundle of t-shirts into her suitcase. The lead that must've kept me standing still melted away, allowing me to step forward and grab her wrist before she could turn back to the dresser. "Please."

"I have to go stay with my parents," she replied weakly, still avoiding my gaze. I blinked dumbly at her, my grip on her wrist loosening.

"Why?" It was more of a breath than anything else.

"I make more problems than I solve," she said quietly, slipping away from me and grabbing a few pairs of jeans. "If I leave, then you can testify for Nathan and not have me around to make you feel guilty."

"I'll feel guilty for testifying against you whether you're here or not," I replied, sounding much more desperate than I meant to. "Max, you can't leave."

"I have to," she said simply, but her voice shook.

"No, you don't," I insisted, stopping her before she could reach to close the suitcase by taking both her hands in mine. "Please, Max. I need you. I can't do this without you." The tears that I'd been holding back finally broke through, sliding down my cheeks as Max kept her gaze locked on the ground, still refusing to look at me.

"If I stay then all I'll do is get you hurt," she said softly, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Or worse." It hit me like a ton of bricks then. The realization of what had been on Max's mind felt far too heavy to be real, and it wasn't even a reason that I believed.

"Max, I know you think what happened to Chloe was your fault, but it -"

"Don't," she said firmly, catching me off guard. "I have to do this. I can't let my stupid powers hurt anyone else. Can't let them kill anyone else. Especially not you." She let go of my hands, picking up her suitcase and messenger bag up off the bed. "I'm sorry. Maybe after everything is over we can try this again. But you can't be around me when this is happening." She walked past me, towards the front door and I could barely make my legs move to stop her.

"Max, please don't leave," I begged, the words coming out in sobs. She hesitated, but she didn't stop. "Max. Max!" But she opened the door and walked out, getting into the car I recognized as her dad's. She must have texted him and told him to pick her up. And I hadn't even noticed. I stared at the open door, watching Max climb into her dad's car and look down at her lap as he drove away.

Something in my chest started to hurt, the pain growing stronger until I was crying so hard that I could barely breathe. She hadn't even said goodbye. I stomped over to the door, slamming it shut as tears streamed down my face. Things started to blur a little from the tears in my eyes as I slammed my back against the door, sliding down it until I was sitting on the floor, my knees pulled to my chest.

I don't remember how long I cried for, but it hurt and it felt like forever. I called Taylor at some point, but she didn't answer. I almost called Nathan. Then I looked down at my home screen and I had to resist the unbearable urge to smash the stupid phone on the tile floor. It was a picture of Max and me, my arm wrapped around her shoulder and my lips pressed to her cheek. She had that stupid grin on her face. Her eyes even looked like they were sparkling.

My chest clenched and I did the last thing I ever thought I'd do. I called my mom. The like only rang twice before she answered.

"Hello, this is Amanda Chase," she said in that typical businessy tone of hers. I wondered if she'd even looked at her phone before answering it or if she even had my number still saved to her contacts.

"Mom," I croaked, my eyes filling with my tears at the sound of my own voice. I was torn between hanging up to rip my own vocal cords out for betraying me and waiting for her to say something.

"Victoria? Are you alright?" She asked, sounding a little concerned. I wasn't sure whether that was a good thing or not. I wasn't even sure if I should tell her the truth.

"No," I ended up saying despite my better judgment. "Max left."

"Left?" She sounded surprised, but that only made the pounding in my chest hurt more. "Why?"

"She said she was doing it so that I could…" Could what? Lie to a jury and judge and tell them that Max was a murderer? "So that I could testify for Nathan if I wanted to." Which was far enough away from the truth to be safe but close enough to it to be believable.

"You sound really unsettled by the whole thing," she said gently, but there was a bit of her usual tone in it so it didn't feel too much like she was concerned. "I'll come pick you up so you can stay with us for a few days."

"Mom, no, I'm fine." But I didn't sound convincing enough.

"Don't argue with your mother," she said softly, the sound making me feel even more like the world was suddenly coming to a horrible end. Even though such a thought was ridiculous. "I'll be there in fifteen minutes. If you haven't packed anything by the time I get there then I'm going to have to pack for you."

"Ok," I sniffled, wiping my eyes. But when I hung up the phone, I couldn't convince my legs to move. Max was gone. My girlfriend. My best friend. Hell, I'd call her my everything if it didn't sound so over dramatic and stupid. I don't know how much time passed, but eventually, there was a knock at the door and I made myself get up whether my legs wanted to or not. When I opened the door, my mom was standing there with a neutral expression expertly placed on her face.

"May I come in?" She asked, her features seeming to soften a little as she looked me over. I just nodded, stepping aside to let her in. She stepped past me, looking around at the apartment. It was clean, as usual. Max and I managed to keep the place pretty clean most of the time despite her messy habits. My heart clenched at the thought and I had to blink several times to keep more tears from falling. "By the lack of luggage, I'm guessing you didn't pack while you were waiting for me?" I shook my head, taking a deep breath before crossing my arms over my chest and speaking.

"No," I replied, looking at the open door to the bedroom. It took every ounce of willpower I had not to just decide that I didn't need to pack anything and leave, but my mom would think that was strange, so I followed her into the room and watched her look around. I felt anxiety crawling around in my chest, but my heart hurt too much to pay much attention to it. I just sat on the bed, watching my mom search for a suitcase.

"Where do you keep your luggage?" She asked, not even bothering to add a snide remark about how there were open drawers in the dresser.

"Closet," I replied, seeing Bongo prance out of the bathroom, his tail held high as he made his way over to the bed and hopped on. My mom turned and saw him brushing his head against my knee, her brows quirked up as if to ask why the hell there was a cat in my room. "Long story," was all I could say. I just didn't want to remember how happy Max had looked bringing the little guy back here. I pet his head, scratching under his chin as he started to purr.

"I expect that we'll be taking him along as well?" My mom asked. I shrugged, taking a deep breath, trying to forget that night all together. If I just pushed the memory down far enough, it wouldn't make me want to cry again.

"If that's ok with you," I said, watching as she set the suitcase on the bed and then made her way to the dresser.

"Well, we can't just leave him here all alone, can we?" She replied, seeing that Max's drawers were still open. Her eyes widened a little as she noticed that the clothes in them weren't mine. Looking over at me, she stayed quiet, watching me carefully. "So Max was… More than just your roommate, by the looks of it. Or did she just not have a dresser of her own in her bedroom?" I let out a breath that I guess could've been a harsh laugh depending on how you looked at it.

"You really want to talk about this right now?" I asked, looking down at Bongo who was curled up next to my thigh, purring contentedly, oblivious to the things that were going on around him for the most part. I felt the bed dip as my mom sat down next to me. She was close, but not touching me. Like sitting near me was already an invasion of my privacy.

"It would explain why you're so upset," she said almost too gently, like she was walking on eggshells. I sighed, shaking my head.

"I really don't need a lecture right now, mom," I replied, but it wasn't very firm.

"A lecture?" She asked, sounding more confused than I would've expected.

"Yeah, about how I'm the heir to the Chase legacy so I shouldn't be dating girls and all that bullshit." It came out before I could stop it and I could've sworn that my mom flinched a little.

"You can date whoever you want, Victoria," my mom said softly, hesitantly putting her hand on my shoulder. I didn't move away, even though I wanted to. I could tell that she was trying to be comforting and, in a small sort of way, it was working. "I'm your mother, not your warden." I scoffed, but there wasn't much behind it.

"Why are you acting so motherly all of a sudden anyway?" I ventured, trying to leave the resentment I felt boiling up in my gut under wraps. There was a pause and my mom lowered her hand from my shoulder and rested her hand on top of mine. I looked up at her, meeting a pair of eyes that I had always seen as cold and unyielding. But now, in a moment when I least expected it, they were soft and almost loving.

"Call it making up for lost time," she said softly, smiling weakly at me. I hadn't noticed the laugh lines around her mouth until that moment or the crows feet at the corners of her eyes. They were subtle, but there. In that moment, my mom wasn't Amanda Chase, owner of the Chase Space and wife to one of the richest men in the world. Instead, she was just mom, all comforting smiles and warm touches and gentle words that helped me feel like my world hadn't just fallen out from under me in less than an hour.

I hugged her after that, even if it was awkward and short. It was kind of nice. We went back to her house after that and I put my things in my old room, looking around at the high ceiling and stark white walls. The bed was still perfectly made and everything had been dusted regularly by the looks of it. Regardless, it didn't feel like home. And the bed wasn't even half as warm as the bed I'd shared with Max.