MIRIAM
It had been three days since Maya slammed the door and vanished with nothing but that duffel bag and all her hurt.
I sat in the corner booth of the café, the one she used to claim was “hers,” staring at a cold cappuccino and a phone that refused to ring. The place was dead for a Saturday. Only the low hum of the espresso machine and Sarah humming in the back could be heard. The silence made every thought a scream.
The moment she left, I was furious. I kept thinking to let her cool off because she always came back. I’d sworn I wouldn’t call or chase. She needed to learn she couldn’t just explode and run every time she couldn’t face the reality.
But by the second morning, when the school office told me she hadn’t shown up, the anger curdled into something else.
I found Xander’s n
