Rory
Sam's face filled my laptop screen the next morning, sharp with concern even through a slightly pixelated video call, and I hadn't even finished explaining the phone call before she cut me off. I'd barely slept, the memory of Dray's carefully corrected pronoun still looping through my head on repeat, and it clearly showed, because Sam's first reaction wasn't even a question — it was just a long, assessing look, the kind she used when she already knew the update was going to be bad before I'd said a single word.
"Wait. Rewind. He almost said 'she' out loud to his own brother?"
"Caught himself half a syllable in. But yeah." I pressed the heels of my hands against my eyes, exhaustion sitting heavy behind them after a night that had swung from the best moment of my entire year to somet
