XAVIER'S POV

Driving Katrina back to her apartment that night was like carrying a weight I hadn’t fully acknowledged until now. The silence between us was louder than anything the radio could drown out. She sat in the passenger seat, staring out the window, her features soft but distant—eyes blank, lips pressed into a thin line. I didn’t know what to say, or maybe I was just too afraid to say the wrong thing.

Everything she said earlier was still ringing in my head. Her voice cracked, ...