ETHAN'S POV

The metallic clink of my Zippo lighter echoed through the living room, sharp and steady, like a drumbeat that matched the restless pounding of my thoughts. Open. Close. Open. Close. The flame barely lasted a second each time before I snapped the lid shut, but the sound filled every corner of the silent house. My hand moved automatically, more out of habit than anything, while my legs stayed crossed, and my chin rested heavily against my palm. My gaze kept drifting between the clock ...