in the room, but it wasn't a p

efficient and gentle. "He shouldn't have touch

till raspy. "It doesn't mat

for discharge," he argued, but there was no for

y here," I s

"Okay. But you can't be alone. You can crash

hurt. But I couldn't drag a stranger into my mes

lked me to the exit, pressing a card into my hand. "My perso

place I once called home. The front

empty glasses and plates covered every surface. The mango cake sat on the coffee table,

room had been my sanctuary, filled with my books, my telescope, my mother's old rocking chai

id, not meeting my eyes. "It's a smal

he slanted ceiling and the single tiny window. I never com

felt nothing but a dull ache for the girl who had t

notes, my laptop. The essentials. As I was zipping my

brother, Ethan. He burst into the room with

ll of loathing. "I can't believe you

. I just picked

? Typical. Can't handle the consequen

dboard box. He thrust it at

nts to see you or anything that reminds him of y

we passed in high school, the ticket stubs from our first movie, the dried flower from our first anni

re sitting by the lake, the sun settin

ice sincere. "A promise that I'll always be h

on top of the pile of faded papers,

brother's hateful gaze. I closed th

oice even. "He just saved me the t