I spent the rest of the day organizing my stuff. The rest of the pack left me alone, by some blessed miracle, though Teagan sent me half a dozen texts checking to make sure I didn’t want to go to graduation. After the sixth time, I assured her that I would rather rip my fingernails off, and she got the message.

When I’d finished putting away the last of my things, I glanced at the time on my phone and grimaced.

Graduation was starting.

It felt weird not to be there, even if I didn’t ...