Now it sounds like her absence.
An empty slot where a contact should be. A blank space underAddison, Coach, where her name should live.
I cross to the window and grab the cord of the blackout curtains. I yank them shut, plunging the room into absolute darkness. Closing myself off. The familiar cocoon of black should calm me—no light, no noise, no eyes. Only me and the hum of the building.
But it doesn’t work.
She’s already inside the walls.
Inside the ritual.
The darkness closes in, thick and smothering.
And all I can think is:
She is the break that won’t set.
Chapter 8
Talia
BythetimeFridayrolls around, my brain feels like chewed ice. Too many hallways. Too many doors slamming. Too many whispers with the wordsReidandlockerandcoachbraided together like a noose.
The Titans have a game tonight.
Clara texted me twice, asking if I’m going.
Zoë sent three increasingly dramatic gifs.
Genny just dropped a pin with be here, coward attached.
I almost said yes. Almost convinced myself to try.
But the idea of sitting in those stands again—the lights, the noise, the possibility of seeing Declan—makes something cold tighten around my lungs. The pressure is too familiar; it feelslike the seconds right before a door slams shut and you realize you’re on the wrong side.
So I don’t go.
My phone rings just as the sun is setting, painting my dorm room in bruised purples and grays. It’s early—pre-game warmups haven’t even fully started yet.
Dad’s name fills the screen.
I answer. “Hey.”
“I’m looking at the stands,” he says—background noise muffled, like he’s in the players' box. “Your seat is empty.”
“Hi, Dad. Nice to hear your voice, too.”
He huffs a breath that’s almost a laugh. “You know what I mean. You coming?”
“Not tonight,” I say, gripping the phone tighter. “Just… long week.”
He doesn’t buy it, but he lets me have the lie. “Fair enough. Get some rest.”
I sit up a little straighter on my bed, pulling my knees to my chest. “I, um… heard about what happened at practice. With Rylan.”
A pause—heavy, thoughtful. I can picture him leaning back in his desk chair, rubbing the tension from his jaw.
“Rumors travel fast,” he says slowly.
