The night air chills my skin once we step outside, and I slow partway to the bus. I close my eyes, breathe deep. A warm presence lingers. I wouldn’t be surprised if Colton eases closer specifically so I don’t get cold. I shiver anyway. More from a decrease of adrenaline and emotion.

“Here.”

When I look over, he’s yanking off his sweatshirt. I glance at the bus, then back to him, and he tilts his head.

“You look like you need a second.” He shoves the sweatshirt at me. “Take it. None of the band will come out without me knowing.”

With a halfhearted smile, I push my hands through the sleeves. I only wear half of it, warming my front.

He strolls over to lean against the side of the bus. His expression stays harsh, body language rigid.

“You heard us,” I say.

He nods, pursing his lips. “I heard enough.”

“I’m sorry we didn’t tell you. Are you mad at me?”

“Not really. I’m fucking livid at Foster, though.”

I’m about to tell him it was me who didn’t want to tell him, but he sighs and tips his head back.

“No one ever told me your name after they got back from Europe. Just that some chick broke Foster’s heart, and he went after her. And then everything went to shit. Months went by with Chase in his recovery. There never felt like a good time to bring up the ghost girl. The one time I did, Foster asked if I’d do him a solid and forget about it entirely.”

I nod, crossing my covered arms as I go to lean beside him. He angles his face to see me, solemn and with a haunting devastation to his eyes. Suddenly I wonder if it’s always existed, and I haven’t noticed until now.

“I’m sorry for what happened to Chase, too.” I pick at a loose thread on the sweatshirt’s hem. “I can’t imagine what you went through.”

His gaze lowers. “Yeah.”

We fall silent, and I stare up at the sky even if the city lights block the stars. The pang in my chest grows as I think about the extent of the damage caused—one moment catalyzing so many others. It all comes back to me.

When I ran from Daniel, I set so much suffering in motion.

After a few minutes, Colton straightens, listening to someone through his earpiece.

“Be there in a few,” he tells them. He tips his head toward the bus’s door. “We can come back out after everyone else is on the bus if you want.”

I shake my head. “I’ll be okay.”

And I am. Until I climb the ladder and crawl under the blankets. Then I’m not okay for a while.

* * *

When I wake up—though I barely sleep—the erratic emotions from last night have dulled to a soft blur.