The message came in late November, from a number I did not recognize.
Unknown: hi nora. it's cassidy. i don't know if you want to hear from me. i wasn't going to send this but i owe you.
Unknown: i'm okay. i'm at my aunt's. i'm working. i'm quitting the whole thing.
Unknown: i talked to a counselor. i don't know if it's helping but i'm doing it.
Unknown: i'm sorry.
I stared at the screen for a long time. My roommate was asleep across the room, and the campus was quiet, the heat ticking in the pipes.
I could have said nothing. I could have written back something cold and clean, the kind of line that sounds strong in the moment and hollow the next day. I had four days of training in that voice, from a life nobody else remembered.
I typed slowly.
Nora: I'm glad you're alive, Cassidy.
