My phone buzzed.
Once, twice. Then like it was fighting for its life.
I groaned, dragged the blanket over my head, grabbed the phone without even lifting it high. It was Ethan again, of course who else would it be. His name sat on my screen like a reminder I didn’t ask for.
A full column of messages.
Are you okay?
Did you get home safely?
Lyra, you disappeared… please talk to me.
It felt less like concern and more like a spotlight I wasn’t ready for. My stomach twisted at the sight of it.
I didn’t open anything, didn’t even pretend to care, and certainly didn’t have space in my head for Ethan’s softness this morning.
I tossed the phone aside and buried my face in the pillow, praying sleep would drag me back and rewrite yesterday.
But no. The phone buzzed again, determined to ruin
