Aurora must’ve told her how to fly. Said she trusted Rebecca more than herself up there. And if my Kitty Kat agreed, then none of us were going to argue. Not me. Not Kyle. Not Kingsley.
Definitely not Kendrick.
Darian and Rachele sat in the back row. They looked wrong without Aurora between them. Like a two-legged stool, always about to tip. Rachele pressed her forehead against the window, watching the shattered horizon like she was reading the future in the cracks of the earth.
Darian looked pale.
Paler than I’d ever seen him.
The guy was always loud, always ready with a joke or a sharp elbow—but not today. He was silent, jaw clenched, fists shaking. The kind of grief that doesn’t scream. It bleeds.
He’d managed to hold it together in front of Aurora—told her he was proud of her, to
