**Kait**

The next morning is just as dreary as the night had been, with pale sunlight filtering through thick, dark clouds. The rain has stopped, but the smell of ozone still fresh in the air predicts another storm.

The weather’s frightful spirit seems to reflect my own turmoil. My heart feels like another crack is forming on its fragile surface every time I think about what might happen to Jake and John. I care for them both, despite how silly that may seem.

I ...