Grayson
She didn’t know it but I could still see it in her, the remnants of whatever Jude had stirred up. It was in the way her shoulders were held just a little too tight, the way her eyes avoided mine like she was bracing for something.
And maybe I should've let her have her space. Maybe I should have gone straight to my room, shut the door and let the night dissolve into silence.
But silence never sat well with me when someone in my house was still carrying fear in their bones.
So I lingered in the kitchen.
The house was dim, the only light spilling from under the cabinets and the muted flicker of the TV in the other room. The air smelled of something softer, warmer. Her shampoo, maybe. It clung in the air in a way I couldn’t ignore.
I poured a glass of water just to give my hands
