ZURI

The letter was between us like a ghost neither of us wanted to touch. The paper was crumpled from how hard I’d gripped it when I found it, but Denny didn’t even try to take it from me. He just sat there, shoulders slouched, staring at the table as though the wood itself might offer him an escape.

I sighed and crossed my arms. “I’ll apologize later for going through your things,” I said quietly, breaking the silence. “But you’re going to tell me why you want to throw your ...