Claire’s POV
Daniel is still asleep, sprawled like a fallen star, mouth open, and his father allows it because it’s the weekend. Smiling, I enter and open up the windows to allow fresh air to come in, and I leave his door open when I leave.
The house breathes around me, like a presence is here I cannot name, a sense of order and weight, as if the walls themselves have agreed to stand straighter when certain people pass through them. I tell myself I am imagining it. I tell myself a lot of things.
Jeremy’s voice reaches me low and controlled as I descend the stairs. I am not trying to listen. That is the lie I cling to as I move through the hallway, socked feet whispering against old wood. Not angry, but tight in a way that makes my stomach pull inward. I slow without meaning to, my body
