“And if you don’t… you donate two million to the Hart Foundation.”
Miles blinked. “What foundation?”
Dean smiled. “She runs a community nonprofit. Food pantry, after-school tutoring, women’s job training, the whole ‘save the world one spreadsheet at a time’ thing.”
Miles felt his friends’ attention tighten around him like a tailored jacket. He understood them: they weren’t trying to win money.
They were trying to win a version of him they could finally break open. Or break.
He could say no. He could walk out and leave them with their little cruelty game.
But pride rose up, smooth and stubborn.
No one told Miles Grayson what he couldn’t do.
“Fine,” he said.
Logan clapped once, delighted. “He said yes!”
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