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Meanwhile Oliver used to run the forty in 455 He lory days, but when he puts his head down and puh the sand like a linebacker

He tackles en out of s They’re so deflated that I can onlyin a sweet breath of air

My head is pounding I’m covered in sand, it’s in my hair and in onna drivebonkers

Oliver is already on his feet again, watching me with pitiless eyes

“I don’t knohy you do this to yourself, Aida,” he says “You’re so self-destructive”

I want to tell hi tackle , let alone able to speak

While I’hdown on the sand, he picks up a rock the size of his fist and smashes the screen His face is red with effort, theon his arm and shoulder My phone practically explodes under the rock, while Oliver keeps hitting it again and again

Then he picks up the broken s it into the water

“Was that really necessary?” I ask him once I’ve recovered my breath

“I don’t want anyone tracking you,” he says

“Nobody—” I break off,open

I was about to say, “Nobody has a tracker on my phone,” but I realize that isn’t true

Oliver put a tracker onThat’s how he always knehere to find me At restaurants, at parties And later, at Callum’s fundraiser

That’s probably how he found o Most of the tiivesthat I was a little dot on a screen, always under his eye

Oliver leavesin the sand