Evie: Dimples & her Devil

Evie: Dimples & her DevilHavenwood University Book OneRose Cedar Copyright © 2023 Rose CedarAll rights reservedThe characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.ISBN: 9798373755658Editing Services: Melanie MederoFormatting Services: Ilona Marotta Book Cover Design by Angela Haddon of Angela Haddon Book Cover Design http://angelahaddon.com To everyone and anyone on their own path of self-discovery… be patient with yourself. You deserve grace. To my husband, I love you and I like you. Trigger WarningsBefore turning the page, I wanted to let you know that this book explores sensitive topics that include sexual assault, rape, physical assault, trauma, bullying, body shaming, name-calling, depression, and anxiety.This book is recommended for readers over the age of eighteen and includes explicit language, panic attacks, graphic sex, and graphic violence.Reader discretion is advised, and these potential triggers should be considered before moving forward as there is text depicting rape, sexual assaults, flashbacks of assaults, as well as graphic violence.If you are anyone you know is a survivor of rape or sexual assault, you’re not alone. If you are seeking support, please consider calling the National Sexual Assault Hotline: 1-800-656-4673.Always take care of yourself, you are important and so is your mental health. Author’s NoteDear Readers,Evie’s story is messy. It’s full of personal struggle, strength, and perseverance. It’s also full of self-discovery, resilience, and redemption. It’s full of fight. It’s full of survivorship.It’s also graphic, gut-wrenching, heart-grabbing, and has the potential to evoke strong emotions. The dark elements of this book are exactly that. I’m strongly encouraging you to review the TRIGGER WARNINGS before moving forward. Your safety is important to me, please take care of yourself.Love,Rose Contents Title PageCopyrightDedicationDedicationTrigger WarningsAuthor’s NotePrologueChapter OneChapter TwoChapter ThreeChapter FourChapter FiveChapter SixChapter SevenChapter EightChapter NineChapter TenChapter ElevenChapter TwelveChapter ThirteenChapter FourteenChapter FifteenChapter SixteenChapter SeventeenChapter EighteenChapter NineteenChapter TwentyChapter Twenty-OneChapter Twenty-TwoChapter Twenty-ThreeChapter Twenty-FourChapter Twenty-FiveChapter Twenty-SixChapter Twenty-SevenChapter Twenty-EightChapter Twenty-NineChapter ThirtyChapter Thirty-OneChapter Thirty-TwoChapter Thirty-ThreeChapter Thirty-FourChapter Thirty-FiveChapter Thirty-SixChapter Thirty-SevenChapter Thirty-EightChapter Thirty-NineChapter FortyChapter Forty-OneChapter Forty-TwoChapter Forty-ThreeChapter Forty-FourChapter Forty-FiveChapter Forty-SixChapter Forty-SevenChapter Forty-EightChapter Forty-NineChapter FiftyChapter Fifty-OneChapter Fifty-TwoChapter Fifty-ThreeChapter Fifty-FourChapter Fifty-FiveChapter Fifty-SixChapter Fifty-SevenChapter Fifty-EightChapter Fifty-NineChapter SixtyChapter Sixty-OneChapter Sixty-TwoChapter Sixty-ThreeChapter Sixty-FourChapter Sixty-FiveChapter Sixty-SixChapter Sixty-SevenChapter Sixty-EightEpilogueAcknowledgements & GratitudeAbout The AuthorComing Soon PrologueI dig underneath the piles of clothes folded on my bed and reach for my phone to check the time; I have twenty minutes until I’m expected to sign on with Melanie, my therapist. It’s my last virtual session before I leave for school this weekend. I breathe out a heavy sigh, put my phone on my nightstand, and get back to packing. So. Many. Piles.I throw more clothes onto my bed; Hunter’s pajama pants, Chase’s sweatshirt, and one of their old hats that I wear when my hair isn’t cooperating. Touching the soft cotton of their stolen clothes is a sharp reminder of how much I miss them and one of the reasons I’m packing up my life today.The first reason is for me. I want to continue to heal, grow and do that outside of the comforts of home. That’s the second reason: I need to experience some of the world around me. I’ve been stuck in a routine here and finally feel ready to take some steps in a different direction, challenge myself, and put myself out there. That direction is reason number three. I want to join my brothers at school and follow the plan we set before everything changed three years ago. I miss them, and the emotional and physical distance between us has been painful, especially after everything we have gone through together.My two brothers, Hunter and Chase, and I are triplets and have always had a strong bond that started when we shared a womb, clung together as preemies, and well into our idyllic childhood. It wasn’t until the end of high school that things shifted between us.The dynamic between us now is strained and I don’t like it one bit. I hate to admit it, but a big part of our triplet-hood is broken, and I want to do my part to fix it.Our birth mother waddled into our parent’s hospital, high out of her mind, unable to form words to explain to the Emergency Room nurse that she was only seven and a half months along as she went into active labor. Baby A, Baby B, and Baby C were taken directly to the NICU, and the doctors got to work to get us healthy. We were underdeveloped, addicted, and in withdrawal. Shortly thereafter, our birth mother had hightailed it out of the maternity ward, leaving a note on the bed. She scribbled on a piece of paper that she was signing away her maternal rights, that she didn’t know who our father was, and that she hoped the hospital would figure out what to do with us. She hadn’t even given the hospital her real name, let alone named us, and we remained Baby A, Baby B, and Baby C for months.The hospital's NICU doctors, nurses, and staff poured all their love, care, and medical expertise into saving our little preemie butts. The story goes that we all screamed when we were alone and only seemed to settle when we were all squished together, as I am assuming we did in utero. I like to think that our bond, which we refer to as our triplet-hood, had forged strongly from here.We were adopted by married doctors who worked in the hospital. My brothers and I recovered from our rough start and had a happy childhood full of summer vacations, family-filled holidays, endless trips to the library for me, and weekends at various ice rinks to support Hunter and Chase.Hunter, or A as we call him, had gotten caught with some weed at the beginning of our senior year of high