Timothy's POV

I stare at my phone for twenty minutes after sending the text, watching the cursor blink at me like it's mocking my indecision. "We need to talk. - T" seems both too little and too much all at once. Too little because there's so much I need to say, too much because she probably doesn't want to hear any of it.

She doesn't respond.

I'm sitting in my truck in the parking lot outside the Crimson Ridge Arena, watching Bloodfang players filter in for their afternoon practice. It's a ...