Liliana Miller
I breathed out heavily as I unlocked the door to Jessica’s apartment, the sound of the key turning almost too loud in the quiet hallway. My legs felt like lead. After everything that had exploded with Alex, I had nowhere else to turn. I was now squatting with a friend who wasn’t really that close. Her name was Jessica. We went to the same university, but we were never best friends — just distant acquaintances who occasionally nodded at each other on campus or shared notes during finals week. Still, when I showed up at her door two days ago with swollen eyes, a suitcase, and a broken voice, she let me in without hesitation.
The apartment smelled faintly of vanilla candles and instant noodles. It was small, a little cluttered, but safe. For now.
Jessica was in the living ro
