AMARA’S POV

THE moment I got home from the university, I collapsed onto my bed. I lay flat on my back and stared blankly at the ceiling—something I had gotten used to doing whenever I felt lost.

“It’s been two days. Two days since he last talked to me.”

I bit my lip, taking a deep breath to hold back the tears threatening to spill.

I miss him. I miss the days when we were always together. I miss the way he cared for me. I miss everything about him.

“What should I do?” I ...