Jack finally left after dinner, satisfied that I was contained within the four walls of my parents' house.
I helped Dad wash the dishes, the domestic routine feeling like a scene from a play I no longer had a role in. I kissed Mum goodnight, lingering a second too long, memorizing the scent of her vanilla perfume.
Back in my room, I lay on the bed, staring up at the plastic stars on the ceiling. They glowed faintly, a constellation of memories Liam had built for me.
I checked my phone. Three missed calls from Liam. No voicemail.
I tried to call him back, but it went straight to an automated operator. He was unreachable. He was in the meeting. He was fighting for my life.
And I am running away.
At 3:00 AM, when the house was silent, I crept downstairs. I took the duffel bag I had hidd
