I saw the ring in my palm before I gave it to Georgia. Pretty. Solid. Real. A promise to a life that would not burn.
And beneath all of it, I saw Destiny at Mandy’s grave, lips trembling beneath mine, trusting me to stop.
My heart stopped instead.
For a second, there was no sound.
No pain.
No body.
Just dark.
Then a voice reached in.
Not Georgia.
God help me.
Not Georgia.
“Dylan.”
Destiny’s voice.
Not the ER voice. Not the nurse. Something softer. Closer. Wet with fear.
“Stay with me.”
The dark pulled.
Her voice pulled harder.
“You don’t get to leave.”
I wanted to tell her I already had.
I had left her at a grave.
Left her in Cabo.
Left her on a sidewalk.
Left her so many times I had started calling abandonment protection.
The dark did not care.
It opened under me like water.
Then the pain came back.
Air.
Noise.
The monitor found a rhythm.
Weak.
