I pushed through the door at the bottom of the stairwell and found myself outside. The evening air was cold against my wet cheeks. I wiped at my face with my sleeve, tried to pull myself together.
Failed.
The sobs came harder. I ducked around the corner of the building, pressed my back against the brick, and let myself fall apart.
Everything I thought I knew was wrong. Every answer I'd found just led to more questions. And the people who had those answers—Cole, Silas, maybe even Rae—were keeping them from me. Protecting me from myself.
Like I was a child. Like I couldn't handle the truth. Like the truth would break me.
Maybe it would.
I slid down the wall until I was sitting on the cold ground, knees pulled up to my chest, face buried in my arms. The bond with James flared—concern, alarm, the urge to come find me. I pushed it down. Couldn't deal with that right now.
I didn't know how long I sat there. Long enough for the tears to slow. Long enough for the cold to seep through my jeans and settle into my bones.
Long enough to feel completely, utterly alone.
I snuck back to my room through the side entrance.
The hallways were mostly empty. I kept my head down anyway. Didn't want to see anyone. Didn't want to explain the red eyes or the tear-stained cheeks or the hollow feeling in my chest.
Our door was closed when I reached it. I fumbled with the key, hands still shaking.
Inside, the room was dark. Ivy wasn't there. Small mercies.
I closed the door behind me, dropped my bag on the floor, and crawled onto my bed without bothering to take off my shoes. Pulled the blanket over my head like I was five years old again, hiding from monsters.
Except the monster was me.
The tears started again. Quieter this time. Exhausted sobs that shook my shoulders but didn't make a sound. I cried until my head ached and my throat was raw and there was nothing left inside me but emptiness.
The door opened.
I didn't move. Didn't look up. Just lay there under my blanket, hoping Ivy would think I was asleep.
"Lumi?"
Her voice was soft. Worried.
I didn't answer.
The mattress dipped as she sat on the edge of my bed. I felt her hand rest on my back, warm through the blanket.
"I ran into James in the dining hall," she said quietly. "He said something was wrong. He could feel it through the bond but you weren't answering his texts."
I'd turned my phone off. Hadn't even thought about it.
"You don't have to talk about it." Her hand moved in slow circles. Soothing. "I'm just going to sit here, okay? You don't have to say anything."
The kindness cracked something open in my chest.
Fresh tears spilled down my cheeks. I couldn't have spoken even if I wanted to. My throat was too tight, my breath coming in hiccups that I couldn't control.
Ivy didn't push. Didn't ask questions. She just sat there, hand on my back, presence steady and warm.
At some point, she kicked off her shoes and lay down beside me. On top of the blanket, her body curved around mine like a shield.
"Whatever it is," she whispered, "you're not alone. You know that, right? Whatever's happening, you don't have to face it by yourself."
