~Claire
Lying in bed, I stared at the ceiling, the weight of Jace’s words pressing down on me like a boulder. Mind your business. It meant nothing.
Fuck.
I had replayed those moments in my head like a bazillion times since he walked out of my room, each repetition cutting deeper. The way his voice had sounded—cold, distant, final. It didn’t make sense. None of it did.
The way he had looked at me before the fight. The way his hands had held onto me before his episode. The way he had leaned into my touch.
I had felt something real. I had thought....it felt real.
But apparently, I was the only one stuck in my head. What was I even thinking?
Swallowing the lump in my throat, I reached for my phone and called the one person who would never brush me off like that.
It rang twice before
