Monday felt different before we even left the house. It sat there, heavy, like something from the night before hadn’t finished settling yet. I was already up when Maddie came into the kitchen, my coffee in my hands, my phone on the counter where I had picked it up more times than I wanted to admit. There was nothing new on the screen, but that didn’t help. Because now it wasn’t about waiting for a message. It was about waiting for the wrong one. “You ready?” she asked. “Yeah.” I didn’t feel ready, but I didn’t want to stay still either. The drive was quiet. Not uncomfortable, just quiet in a way that felt like both of us were holding something back. Maddie glanced at me once or twice, quick, like she was checking something, but I kept my eyes forward, watching the road and the trees bl

