Cassie stared at her phone long after the call ended, her thumb hovering over the screen as if she could will Elisia to call back. But the only response was silence.
The apartment felt heavier than usual, like the walls had absorbed everything she wasn’t saying. Cassie had spent years pretending she didn’t care about things she couldn’t control, but this—this was different.
She tossed her phone onto the counter and ran a hand through her hair. Maybe she should call Emmett. Maybe he’d have some bitter, half-drunk wisdom to throw at her. Or maybe he’d just tell her what she already knew:
Elisia wasn’t ready to talk.
And that had to mean something.
With a frustrated sigh, Cassie grabbed her keys and jacket, shoving her phone into her pocket. Sitting here waiting for a response was drivin
