The next morning, I woke up alone in the room Madeleine and I were supposed to share.
I didn’t remember falling asleep, just lying on the edge of the bed fully clothed, my phone still clutched in one hand, the ghost of Ivy’s name on the screen before it dimmed to black.
I sat up, disoriented for a moment, then grabbed my phone and opened the lock screen.
The last message I’d written to Ivy, “Do you miss me at all? Even a little?” was gone.
I’d deleted it.
Or… at least I thought I had.
My heart knocked against my ribs as I pulled open my messages, scrolling. No unsent drafts. Nothing sent. Just the same unread messages from me to her, waiting in the void between us.
Then I saw it.
The icon.
Read at 2:03 a.m.
I hadn’t opened it.
I’d never sent it.
I’d never read it.
Madeleine ha
