The sun had just begun to set when Valencia pulled into the driveway of Ty’s mom’s house. The familiar porch light flickered on as her tires crunched over the gravel. She sat in the car for a moment longer than necessary, staring at the front door. The house had always felt warm, welcoming . . . theirs. But tonight, it felt different, like walking back into a memory that had shifted while she wasn’t looking.
She finally stepped out, smoothing her hands down the front of her hoodie as she approached the porch. Ty opened the door before she could knock. “Hey,” he said, soft and casual. His eyes lingered on hers for just a second too long. “Hey,” she replied, forcing a smile.
He stepped back to let her in, and the scent of cinnamon candles and laundry detergent met her as she crossed the
