Wren
Ezra barges into the room, alongside Torch and Lizzy.
“Wren!” Ezra rushes to my side, where I’m crumpled on the floor, trembling. “What’s wrong?”
I’m immediately crowded but I can’t speak, tears leaking from my eyes.
Someone presses a hand to my forehead. “She’s fine, definitely not a fever.”
From the corner of my eye, Ezra picks up my phone. He scrolls a bit, and his jaw tightens.
“Birdie…”
The way he says my name only makes me cry harder.
“He’s dead, Ezra,” I sob, a slobbering mess.
My tears mix with snot, and the salty taste slips past my lips, coating my tongue.
“Who’s dead?” Torch whispers, but I catch it.
The phone conversation plays over and over in my mind.
“Can you both leave us,” Ezra says to Lizzy and Torch. “Only for a bit. I need to talk with her.”
“Of cour
