I stayed in the car for a long time after Dylan killed the engine, staring at the house, the quiet stillness of the night pressing down on me.
The lights from the streetlamp outside cast long shadows across the driveway, but it wasn’t the darkness that felt suffocating, it was the weight of everything I was trying to ignore, trying to outrun.
Finally, Dylan spoke, his voice softer this time, as though he could feel the distance growing between us.
“Come inside, Caitlin,” he said gently. “You need to rest.”
I shook my head, the exhaustion in my bones telling me that he was right. But my mind wouldn’t stop spinning, the image of Aiden, his presence still burning in my veins. I didn’t want to go inside. I didn’t want to face this house, this life. I didn’t want to feel like a ghost in my
