The envelope sat therelike a landmine. I didn’t even want to open it.
It was supposed to be good news. A celebration. The kind of moment parents frame and hang next to school portraits and baby pictures.
Charlotte had her phone out already, recording. My dad was trying too hard to look casual, like he hadn’t just refreshed the college website twenty times that morning, waiting for the result.
I already knew.
I’d known the second Tru blinked fast and handed his letter off to Charlotte. He didn’t want to be the one to say it out loud.
“I got in,” he said quickly. His voice cracked on the last word.
My stomach turned.
Toourschool.
Not his dream school. Not some faraway artsy liberal campus where he could disappear into murals and oil paints and dorm room hookups with boys who liked boys and didn’t hate themselves for it.
Nope. He got intomyschool. My backup. My safety. The place I picked because it was close enough for Dad to say he was proud and far enough for me to breathe. The school I chose so I could start over—cut out the cancer, cauterize the wound, and be anyone other than the angry, broken version of me that festered under this roof.
And now he was coming with me.
Four more years.
Four more fucking years.
With his silence. His slow blinks. His long, searching stares and soft smiles. With the boy I tried so hard to bury coming back to haunt me on a campus where I was supposed to be free. Fate had just shoved me in a coffin and nailed the lid shut.
Same hell, different zip code.
I thought turning eighteen meant freedom, but not in this house. Freedom didn’t exist in this family.
Charlotte clapped her hands, beaming. “You boys—same college! Can you believe it?”
My father chuckled, nudging my arm. “Guess fate has a sense of humor.”
I gave him a smile that didn’t reach my eyes. "Yeah. Hilarious."
Tru stood stiff beside me, his hands buried in the pockets ofhis hoodie. He didn’t look at me. Not once. Just nodded absently when Charlotte suggested we go out to celebrate.
“We should make a reservation,” she said, already scrolling her phone. “Someplace nice. It’s a huge day.”
“I’m not really hungry,” Tru murmured.
I could feel heat crawling up the back of my neck, angry heat. “Come on, Tru,” I said, voice flat. “Don’t ruin the big family moment.”
His eyes flicked toward me briefly, and they were stone-cold.
“I’m not the one who ruined anything.”
Charlotte missed it. My dad, too. But I caught it. It sliced between us sharp as a razor. And just like always, we smiled for them, pretending we weren’t standing on opposite sides of the same burning bridge.
The steak was overcooked. Or maybe I just didn’t have an appetite anymore.
“So,” Charlotte said, stabbing a green bean with her fork, “we were thinking. Since you boys are both going to the same school, it might make sense to share a dorm. Or maybe even an apartment off-campus?”
I choked. Literally. A piece of steak lodged in my throat, and for a second I saw stars. Tru startled beside me, his hand twitching like he was going to reach for me, but he didn’t.
My dad clapped me on the back a little too hard. “You okay?”
