Callie’s POV
The next morning came in fragments.
I woke slowly, not all at once, but in pieces, first the dull ache in my ankle, then the weight of the blankets, then the quietness.
The house was unusually still, the kind of stillness that made every sound feel deliberate
I stared at the ceiling for a while, blinking against the soft light filtering through the curtains. I didn’t dream.
That, somehow, unsettled me more than the nights I did.
Carefully, I shifted, lowering my feet to the floor. My ankle protested immediately with a sharp, reminding sting. but it held. I stood there for a moment, testing my balance, breathing through it.
You’re fine, I told myself. You didn’t break anything. You didn’t fall apart. The memory of the last two nights surfaced uninvited. The slip. The su
