The words landed between them like a dull, lifeless thud.
Savannah stilled.
A fracture. A break. A fucking wreckage. Mallory could see it happening in real time.
The way the color drained from Savannah’s face. The way her shoulders curved inward. The way her breath hitched in her throat like she was seconds from collapsing.
And then—Mallory made it worse.
So much worse.
“The pieces you left behind.”
Savannah sucked in a sharp breath.
She staggered back like Mallory had driven a knife straight into her chest, her hands trembling, her lips parting in a silent gasp. Her knees buckled, but she caught herself, fingers clutching the edge of the coffee table like it was the only thing keeping her upright.
Mallory clenched her jaw, hating herself for saying it.
For making Savannah hear it. For making her feel it.
But the truth was the truth. Savannah had wrecked him.
And now? Now, she was wrecking herself.
Her breathing was sharp, uneven, ragged—like she was seconds from breaking apart right in front of her.
The house was silent. Too silent.
The kind of quiet that presses down on your chest, that fills every inch of a room with the weight of what’s left unsaid.
Savannah stood in the middle of the living room, arms wrapped around herself as if she could physically hold herself together. But she was unraveling, and she felt every thread pulling loose.
Mallory was still on the couch, her phone screen dark now, fingers gripping the fabric of the cushion beneath her.
The air between them was thick. Suffocating.
And then—
Savannah’s phone buzzed.
The sound split the silence like a gunshot.
She flinched.
Mallory barely noticed it at first, too caught up in watching Savannah, bracing for the fallout.
But then—She saw it.
The way Savannah froze. The way her breath caught. The way her fingers trembled as she lifted her phone, staring at the screen as if moving would make it real.
Mallory frowned. “What is it?”
Savannah didn’t respond. Didn’t blink. Didn’t breathe.
Her thumb hovered over the screen for a second—just one second—before she clicked the message open.
Chase:Take care of yourself, Monroe.
