KIER
She mustn’t know what happened last night.
She just stared at the smudge like she was trying to understand it—like her mind was racing to place it somewhere safe and failing.
I shouldn’t have come back like this. I should’ve cleaned up. Taken a second to think, to breathe. To be better.
But I wasn’t.
And now, she was staring at me like she didn’t recognize me. Like I was someone else entirely.
She looked like she was breaking.
I reached out to her again. “Genesis…”
Her breath hitched the moment my hand touched her shoulder—and something in me shattered. Not just because she flinched—God, she flinched—but because I saw it in her eyes.
She wasn’t here. Not really.
So I stood. Her eyes followed me, wide and wary, like she was bracing for something. Preparing for impact.
I drag
