VIOLET
I told myself it was just one good day.
My heart refused to believe me.
By nine o'clock that evening, the freezing campus drizzle had turned into a steady, rhythmic pour, drumming against the heavy glass windows of Alder Hall. I stood in the center of my dorm room, staring down at the massive, oversized gray hockey hoodie engulfing my frame. The thick fleece was a suffocating sanctuary, completely saturated with the intoxicating scent of cedarwood, winter ice, and fresh rain. It smelled entirely like Jace, and every time I breathed it in, a profound wave of heavy longing crashed through my chest, obliterating the peaceful routine I’d spent weeks frantically constructing.
"If you wear that thing to sleep, you’re officially relapsing," Mia warned, not looking up from her biology f
