MARA
Jacob’s been a constant shadow since that night when his intentions became clear.
Not the creepy kind of shadow, but the thoughtful, steady one that makes you feel like someone’s got your back.
He calls, texts, and checks in regularly as his own way of weaving himself into my life.
It’s not like I need anything; the black card my father handed me that morning is more than enough to cover all my expenses.
Yet Jacob keeps surprising me, showing up with random gifts that make me smile despite everything I’m going through.
When classes run long—especially after those brutal pharmacology lab sessions—he waits outside, either ready to walk me home or drive me to the dorm in his beautiful but modest Toyota Corolla.
It’s old enough to feel relatable, but well-kept, with a gleaming
