I burst through our apartment door, dropping my bag on the shoe mat. Desperately tugging off my heels, I can hear my thoughts ringing loudly through my ears, questioning and raging about a million different choices I could or should have made.

In the living room, River peeks over the couch, frowning. I march straight to the kitchen as she watches me go, “Whoa, what happened?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

Kirby pulls off his headphones, ...