I woke up before the sun.
At first, I thought it was just one of those mornings where sleep slipped through my fingers too early, but as I lay there staring at the faint outline of my curtains, I realized what it really was, my mind simply wouldn’t shut off.
Today was Damian’s game.
The thought pressed on me like a weight. I rolled over, burying my face into the pillow, hoping maybe I could drown it out, but it didn’t work. My chest ached with a question I’d been trying to avoid since yesterday.
Wass I even supposed to show up?
He had invited me. I remembered the way his voice had carried that casual confidence, like it was a given I’d be there. And yet, after everything—the cafeteria, Marianne, the way he hadn’t said a word in my defense, was I still supposed to just appear at his si
