Wren

I blink up at the ceiling, eyes raw and dry, like they’ve been stuffed with cotton balls.

It’s been a week since Ray found out about Ezra and I. It’s been a week since little MaryAnne was born. And it’s been a week since I heard from Ezra.

I’ve called, left tons of voice messages, even texted…but he hasn’t picked up, neither has he responded.

Is this how it’s going to be? Is this…over?

My throat closes at the thought, and I swallow.

“Wren.” I feel a tap on my ...