The night stretched on forever.
Elias and I sat on the couch in the living room, the same couch where we had watched movies as a “family” just weeks ago. The rain had picked up again, drumming steadily against the roof like an accusation. Neither of us had moved much in the last hour. His arm was wrapped around my shoulders, holding me close in that familiar, clingy way, his thumb stroking my arm in slow circles. But the comfort felt fragile now, shadowed by the empty space where Amina should have been.
“She’s safe at Lena’s,” Elias said quietly for the third time, as if saying it out loud would make it true. “Lena texted me. She’s upset, but she’s not alone. That’s something.”
I nodded against his chest, but the knot in my stomach only tightened. “She hates us. She has every right to.
