Olivia POV
I didn't answer the text. I sat there staring at it until the screen dimmed on its own, then I deleted the message entirely, like erasing it from my phone might erase it from my chest too. It didn't. It just meant I lay there in the dark with the words memorized instead of visible, which was somehow worse — no evidence to point to, just the sentence looping over and over until I finally gave up trying to sleep through it and stared at the ceiling instead, counting the hours until it would be socially acceptable to get up.
By morning I'd decided the only thing to do was act like it hadn't happened at all. I splashed cold water on my face until the puffiness under my eyes went down enough to pass for tired-but-fine, and went down to the kitchen where Mrs. Doyle already had eggs
