The house had finally gone quiet.
I waited until well past midnight, heart hammering against my still-bruised ribs, before slipping out of my room. The hallway floorboards creaked under my bare feet like they were betraying me with every step. I’d changed into soft sleep shorts and a thin tank top, telling myself it was only because they were comfortable. The lie felt paper-thin, just like the walls between us.
Caleb’s door was already cracked open.
A sliver of warm lamplight spilled into the hallway. I pushed it wider and stepped inside.
He was sitting on the edge of his bed, elbows on his knees, head bowed. He wore only black sweatpants, the same ones from this morning, riding low on his hips. When he looked up, the storm in his grey eyes had quieted into something heavier—something
