t party, Cayla began to

ones filled with curated, professional posts related to G

ct of rebellion,

t from Jeramy Santos, o

relle's story. Looks amazing. You alway

mpliment. They felt like an epi

k a simple, p

amy. I just

won't be working for hi

guess it. It was the first time she h

nstant. What? Why? D

n five years of slow-burning despair in a text m

he typed. A bland, corporate l

e. Not the painful ones. The good ones. The one

ched café. He wasn't saying anything, just looking at her with that familiar, loving

up with tears

e memory of that love was what Grafton and Cherrelle had systematically disma

lower from a bouquet Justen had given her. A ticket stub from a concert. A cheap keychain Grafton had won at a car

n in her palm. A sma

was not lo

startling her. She checked

er apartment, his eyes scanning

e demanded, gesturing at t

she sai

rinkets in her hand. He strode over an

ing in disdain. "You're still holding

thl

hung in

he keychain, the memories, the five years sh

said, her voice eeri

y, and emptied its contents inside. The sound of the small items clatter

to him, her face

something

s eyes. He had expected tears, a protest, some

ring his composure. "The jew

left without

elp, after all. Ev