Riley:
Morning light poured in, soft and golden, but it only made the hollow in my chest more obvious. Sleep hadn’t touched me—I’d spent the night staring at the ceiling, listening for footsteps that never came.
By the time I padded into the kitchen, Cade was already there. He looked like I felt—wrung out, stretched thin, but pretending to be normal. His hair was still damp from a shower, and he nursed his coffee in silence like it was the only thing holding him together.
We didn’t speak. The quiet between us wasn’t sharp anymore; it was heavy, dragging at every breath. I took the chair across from him, cupping my mug, letting the warmth sting my palms.
Footsteps creaked on the stairs. Logan.
He came down crisp and steady, like he’d actually slept, like the night hadn’t fractured anyt
