The dress itches.
It’s too tight in the sleeves. Too black. Too much like goodbye. I sit on the edge of my bed. Tears dried stiff on my face. My lips are cracked from crying.
I miss Baba.
So much my chest aches.
I reach for the stuffed bunny on my pillow. The only soft thing left in this house. The door opens.
I stiffen.
Gabriel.
His hair is tied up today, pulled back like a knife held at the ready. Sharp cheekbones. Shadows under his eyes. Jaw tight.
Two men step in behind him, all muscle and silence.
They carry boxes.
I blink.
“What are you doing?” I ask, voice small.
Gabriel doesn’t answer. He nods at the men. They start packing.
My drawers.
My books.
Even the brush with pearls on the handle.
“Where… where are we going?” I ask, trying to keep my voice steady.
He doesn’t look at me when he says it.
“We’re not going anywhere.Youare.”
I clutch the bunny tighter.
“Am I moving in with Hala Mira?”
“No.”
He finally meets my eyes.
“You’re my responsibility now.”
My stomach flips.
“This is my house,” he adds. “And I need this space, so you will live downstairs.”
My voice shakes.
“But there’s no rooms downstairs.”
He raises his hand—just a twitch, but I flinch anyway.
He sees it.
