The front door creaked shut behind me, the faint click of the lock echoing louder than it should have. My shoes scuffed against the tiled floor, and for a moment I lingered in the entryway, my backpack heavy against my shoulder. I’d just said goodbye to Taylor outside, forcing a small smile that didn’t quite reach my eyes, pretending his steady presence had patched up all the cracks in me.
It hadn’t.
The air in the house felt different the moment I stepped inside, though. Not heavy, like it usually was after one of Mom’s late-night phone calls. Not sharp, like when she’d tried to swallow her nerves with coffee and silence. No, today the air hummed with something lighter.
Voices drifted from the living room, bright, cheerful, overlapping in a way I hadn’t heard in what felt like forever.
