Kelly's POV
I went to Hope’s place because my apartment felt too loud. Inside my head, everything was turned up too high, every thought was scrambled, every memory replayed with a clarity I didn’t ask for.
So I grabbed my jacket, texted her a quick are you home text, and left before I could change my mind.
She opened the door barefoot, hair piled on top of her head like it had given up halfway through a bun. The smell of garlic and something sweet drifted out from her kitchen.
“You look like you just escaped a crime scene,” she said by way of greeting.
“I escaped my couch,” I replied, stepping inside. “It was judging me.”
“That couch has always been a snob,” she said. “Come in.”
Her apartment was a familiar place that had settled into my bones. The same soft lamp in the corner, the
