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2.Paloma has always called me when she needed help.

“Which means she’s fine,” I grit out, grabbing for the steering wheel as I finally reverse out and force myself to drive home.

Sometimes, when my anxiety is bad enough, I drive down Greek row and through the downtown strip just to make sure she isn’t there. Cold. Waiting for me.

Maybe things are good. Maybe she doesn’t need me as her crutch and comfort anymore.

Just like Rhys. Just like everyone in your life who moves on without you and leaves you behind.

I shake the thought from my brain as I head in from the garage, upstairs, and into my bathroom. I take a moment to breathe, turning on the shower and stepping under the hot spray.

Afterward, I make my way to the quiet kitchen once everyone has settled into their rooms for the night. I turn on my music and start to prepare our meals for the week ahead. I’ve already washed and dried the blue and green containers—for Rhys and Freddy, respectively—so that I can label and stack their food. It helps to follow the familiar routine.

I let it soothe me.

Once everything is prepped, stored, cleaned, and put away, I make my way to bed, praying that the quiet stillness will allow me some rest.

I turn on soft music and grab one of my notebooks, but as usual the words aren’t there. I can’t write anything. I can barely stand to read poetry now that—

Seven raises his head at the sound of the front door closing. He pushes up off the bed and pads toward my bedroom door with a whine.

“Shh,” I say, clicking my tongue and patting the space beside me on the bed. “It’s fine—it’s just Sadie and Rhys coming home late or something. Calm down.”

But he doesn’t. His paw comes to scrape at the wood on the door, making my brow furrow further. It’s not as if whoever came in so late is making a lot of noise—if anything they’re too quiet. I stand and push my ear to the door, listening intently.

I only hear Freddy’s voice, but too low for me to make out his words, before I tug at Seven’s collar to come to bed.

“Everything’s fine, Sev. Come here.”

He doesn’t and it makes my chest ache a little. What is wrong?

Everyone is home and safe. Everyone is okay.

Except one, my mind threatens, preying easily on the slip of my focus. She’s alone and in the dark and hungry—

Stop. I turn off the lamp before Seven whines louder and I click it back on, rolling over to try to sleep.

Seven doesn’t sleep much, staying curled up by the door, refusing to come back to the bed. I don’t sleep much either.

Chapter 7

NOW

Paloma

“Good morning, sleepyhead.”

The words are low, but loud enough to have woken me if I wasn’t already awake and staring up at the ceiling.

I press up on my elbows in the bed. My chest squeezes at the sight of the disheveled bedding on the opposite twin bed, knowing full well she stayed by me all night.

“Morning,” I mutter quietly, rubbing at the bridge of my nose.

Sadie slumps against the doorframe, the gray T-shirt she’s swimming in a near-perfect match to her eyes. “Drinking yourself under the table this time, huh, Blake?”

There’s a sarcastic, equally snarky retort on the tip of my tongue—but that’s not what comes out.

I shake my head and duck my chin. “Not really doing great right now, Brown.”