Buried.
Hidden.
Like if I didn’t look at it, it wouldn’t be real.
Reality snaps back into focus as Kamden waits for my answer.
“I’ll take care of it,” I say. “Eventually.”
He nods, accepting it without judgment. “Whenever you’re ready.”
That night, my apartment feels too quiet.
I sit on the couch with a beer I don’t want, TV on but muted, the glow from the screen doing nothing to drown out the weight pressing in from all sides.
My eyes drift to the hallway.
To the closet door.
It feels like the ashes are everywhere suddenly. Filling the room. Sitting on my chest. I can’t breathe around them. Around what they represent.
Anger flares, sharp and sudden. At him. At myself. At the fact that the world didn’t stop when mine did.
Before I can think better of it, I grab my phone.
Scroll.
There.
Amelia.
My thumb hovers for half a second.
Then I hit call.
NINE
Amelia
My phone buzzes on the coffee table, the sound sharp in the quiet of my apartment.
I glance at the screen and my stomach flips.
Wilder.
For a second, I just stare at it. I tell myself it’s nothing. That I’m calm. That this doesn’t matter.
I answer anyway.
“Hello?”
Silence.
“Wilder?” I say, sitting up straighter.
He breathes out slowly, then clears his throat. “This was a mistake.”
My heart stutters. “Calling me?”
