I found him three days later, walking along the back road that led from campus to the old Ravencrest Cemetery. It was the same route we'd taken after Liliana's trial, when everything felt simpler even though it wasn't.

He looked better than he had drunk on my couch—showered, properly dressed, no longer swaying on his feet. But there was something defeated in the way he carried himself, a heaviness that hadn't been there before our fight.

I pulled my car over to the shoulder and rolled down ...