Killian’s name blinked at me from my phone. Seeing his name was both a balm and a new worry. My finger hovered over the “answer” button.

Then, a memory hit me at the same time the heavy weight of a boulder pressed into my chest—I’d slept right through the photography exhibit I had told Killian I would attend with him! 

Feeling like the worst friend ever, I picked up the call with a dejected sigh. 

“Madison, where were you yesterday?” Killian’s voice was ...