Olivia lay rigid in the darkness, eyes wide open, heart pounding. Every time she dared to close her lids, the photograph flared behind her eyeballs: the cedar fence, her father’s lean frame, Adrian standing at his side—silent, intent, watching her father’s hands work the boards. By three A.M. she was certain she was losing her mind. By four she didn’t know what was real anymore. By five she’d given up entirely.
The apartment was unnaturally still. Adrian lay beside her, propped on his elbow and facing the window—or so she thought. His breathing was unnervingly even, forced. As if he were pretending to sleep. Olivia stared at the ceiling, tracing its cracks with her mind.
“You awake?” Her voice scraped the silence.
A pause so total it pressed against her chest. Then: “Yeah.”
Of cour
