Lia
I check the clock again even though I already know what it says. The numbers don’t change anything, but they sit heavier each time I look. The house is quiet, too quiet for late afternoon. No music plays, no footsteps echo from down the hall, and the usual hum of the TV is missing. It’s just me—and the script I’ve already read five times without processing a single word.
I pace in slow circles, fingers twitching at the edges of the folded script, too restless to sit and too on edge to breathe evenly. Derek was supposed to come over and run lines with me. Mrs. Low made it sound like it was all planned, but I knew from the second she said his name that it wasn’t going to happen. He didn’t just back out, and I know something—or someone—scared him off.
Caden, if I have to guess.
I don’
