I opened the door.
I could feel Sophia’s eyes on me as I stood there, still holding my phone like it might burn me. The room felt smaller now, the walls closing in, the air thick with something I couldn’t name. Maybe it was regret. Maybe it was the weight of something coming, something I couldn’t outrun.
I didn’t look at her. I wouldn’t. Not after what she’d done. She was too damn curious, always digging at wounds that were better left untouched.
I dropped my phone to the table, ignoring the way it slid across the surface as if it had its own purpose, its own mind.
The envelope was still laying on the table
“Who’s it from?” Sophia’s voice, soft but pressing. She wasn’t going to let this go, and she had no idea how much I wanted her to just leave me the hell alone.
I didn’t answer.
