I woke up to the faint sound of voices drifting through the half-open door. The morning light was dim and bluish, sneaking through the blinds like it was afraid to interrupt. My body was tangled in Clay's sheets, warm but heavy, and I noticed Justin sitting by the door — legs pulled up to his chest, staring into nothing.
And then I heard her voice.
"If he had been honest with us about the drugs—" Mrs. Jensen's tone was sharp but weary, the kind of voice that's both angry and heartbroken.
"Did you know they were gonna ask?" Mr. Jensen's voice followed, lower but tense.
I lifted myself slightly, pulling the sheet over my bare chest as I tilted my head toward the sound. My eyes darted toward Justin, who still hadn't moved.
"No, of course not. I removed myself, Matt." Mrs. Jensen sounded like she was pacing. "If I were to interfere with a witness—"
"A witness? He's your son."
I frowned and gestured to Justin, pointing at the clock on my phone. Shit. I was supposed to be with Ellie. My heart dropped into my stomach.
"If I were to interfere in any way, I would be fired. I would be disbarred, Matt," she continued. I glanced back at Justin — his eyes were distant, lost somewhere between guilt and panic. He looked like a child again, hugging his own arms, chewing on his nails without realizing.
"Our boy did drugs. We didn't know. He hid a homeless boy for a week. We didn't know."
"I mean, what the fuck, Lainie?"
The argument grew sharper, voices rising, and I didn't need to hear more. I jumped from the bed, still in Clay's oversized shirt, and hurried toward Justin.
"Today was Clay's statement..." I mumbled, my throat tight as I buttoned my jeans. I couldn't believe I'd forgotten. He didn't move — his eyes were fixed on the floor.
"They don't want me here," he said finally, his voice quiet, broken.
"Yes, they do," I replied, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach my eyes. I grabbed my shoes, frustrated at myself, at him, at everything. "I have to go, Justin. Ellie's waiting for me."
He stood up, closing the door behind me, then turned toward the window.
"I love you."
It hit me like a gunshot. My heart stopped for a second, and I forgot how to breathe. I wasn't ready to let myself love him again — even though I already did. I just couldn't say it. Not now.
"I know," I whispered, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek before climbing out of the window. The cool air hit me hard, snapping me back to reality. I landed on the grass, the world spinning for a moment, then ran straight to my car.
~||~
"Ellie! I'm home!" My voice echoed through the house as I threw my keys on the table. No response. The lights in the living room were on, and that was my first red flag.
Then I heard it — the sound of quiet sobbing.
My steps slowed as I walked closer, and my chest caved in when I saw her — Ellie, curled up and crying in Bryce's arms.
"Where the hell were you?" His tone was calm, but it carried that same cold authority that always made me feel like I was shrinking. He placed Ellie gently aside and marched toward me.
"She called me," he continued, voice rising. "Saying you were supposed to be here, taking care of her."
And just like that, guilt crushed me. Heavy. Paralyzing.
