Rissa’s POV

The smoky motel room was dusty and filled with the rays of the morning light slipping faintly through the motel window covered in dirt, the worn carpet painted with the long streaks of gold, and I barely noticed its effects. My thoughts spun in relentless circles, knotted with emotion, resentment, confusion, and something else I didn’t want to name. Hope, maybe. The kind that flickers when everything else has gone dark.

Mark’s voice still echoed in the fragile silence. His ...