In the car, she stares out the window and tries to process. He didn't touch her. Didn't ask her to dance. He asked her to talk. To be there.
She checks her phone. Amara “Amara’s asleep, all good”
She thinks about his tired eyes. The way he said bad year. The way he said I understand survival.
She doesn't know what he's surviving. But for the first time, she wants to.
Who was Damian Cross when no one was watching?
And why did I want to be the one to find out?
The apartment is quiet when I walk in. I kick off my shoes by the door, careful not to wake Milly. The floorboards creak under my feet, familiar and worn. I peek into her room. She's curled on her side, one arm thrown over a stuffed bear, the nightlight casting soft stars across her small face. Her breathing is steady. No wheezi
