He let me, but barely.
“Don’t disappear on me too,” I whispered.
His eyes filled. “I’m trying not to.”
Then he drove away.
A month later, I smelled smoke coming from under his bedroom door.
Liam was away. John was at work. I was upstairs when the smell hit me. It was sharp, burnt, and wrong.
“Don’t disappear on me too.”
His door was locked.
I used a small screwdriver until the lock gave, then shoved it open.
There was no fire, just a scorched power strip beside his desk. I yanked the cord from the wall.
Then I saw the photo.
The prom photo. Livia smiling beside Liam, already keeping a secret.
My legs went weak, and I dropped onto the yellow beanbag chair.
I yanked the cord from the wall.
Instantly, something felt wrong.
It was too soft in one spot and too hard in another.
I flipped it over.
