Leo wandered downstairs the next morning, a little exhausted from the lack of sleep.
He rubbed a hand over his face, trying to push away everything that happened last night, but his body still felt the weight of it.
Now that he could think properly, he needed to find a way to deal with her so she would never ever think of leaving him or taking her own life.
Jack had gone hours ago. Left with a strange look in his eyes, like he knew more than he wanted to say. He told Leo to let her rest. To keep watch. But now she was asleep, and Leo couldn’t breathe in that room anymore.
So he came down. To breathe. To think. To pretend he was fine.
The smell of coffee hit him warm, bitter, homey.
Amara’s mother stood by the counter, stirring her mug slowly. Her hair was tied up, and she looked ha
