Warm hands.
A cliff at dusk.
Leo’s hoodie wrapped around my shoulders as he kisses me slow, the world shrinking to the sound of the waves below us.
We’re laughing about future plans. His and mine. Talking about college visits, road trips, stupid fantasies about taking a road trip together someday.
He cups my face like it’s something precious.
“You’re my girl, Jade,” he whispers. “Always.”
The dream fractures.
The slime hits my skin.
The crown slips.
The world roars back to life in the ugliest way.
He reaches for me in the dream just like he did in real life?—
Too late.
Always too late.
I wake up with tears sliding across my temples and into my hairline.
The waves outside crash again, louder this time.
Or maybe my chest is the one breaking.
I press my sleeve to my eyes, wipe until my throat aches, and sit there in the gray dawn light trying to remember how to breathe.
Aunt Susan is already in the kitchen when I shuffle in.
She’s flipping something in a pan—eggs, maybe—but her eyes soften the second she sees me.
“Morning, honey,” she says gently. “Rough night?”
I nod, pouring myself a glass of water and trying to look less fragile than I feel.
“You’ve got time,” she says, sliding a plate toward me.
“Aunt Susan?—”
“No, listen,” she interrupts. “I emailed the school first thing this morning. You’re doing remote work for the rest of the week. Then it’s Thanksgiving break. Think of it as a cooling-off period before you have to step foot back at Royal Oaks.”
Cooling off.
Like I’m a kettle someone finally bothered to take off the stove.
I sit down at the table and pick at the corner of the toast she set out. I don’t eat it—just hold it so my hands don’t shake as visibly.
“What about midterms?” I ask quietly.
“Online,” she says. “They’ll accommodate. Believe me, after everything, the last thing the school wants is more bad press.”
She takes a seat across from me.
