SARAH
My chest tightened as Jackson’s words echoed in my ears. You must have a reason for that, right? His voice, low and expectant, coiled around me like a snake. My pulse quickened, and I stepped back slightly, my hand slipping out of his grasp.
The hallway was dimly lit, the only sound the faint hum of the wind brushing against the windows. Jackson’s gaze bore into me, demanding answers I wasn’t sure I could give. Not now. Maybe not ever.
“I—” my voice cracked, and I paused to steady it. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”
Jackson took a step closer, his presence filling the narrow space between them. His scent, sweet, lavender and citrus, flooded my senses, making my head spin. It wasn’t just his scent; it was him. The memories of our bond, our laughter, and the quiet
