Jake settles back down, pulling the blanket higher around us both. "I'll be here in the morning when you wake up, promise." He whispers, his breath warm against my ear. His pinky finds mine beneath the covers, linking together like when we were kids.

"Thank you." The words come out fragile, barely there.

I stare at the moonlight painting shadows across my floor, thinking about how grief moves like waves, pulling at the shore of memory. No one knew Dad was sick—not until the tumor made itself known too late. Time is cruel that way, slipping through our fingers while we're busy making plans.

I'm scared to close my eyes, because when I wake up tomorrow, I'll have to face the truth all over again—he's really gone. My sixteenth birthday, and he won't be there with his goofy dad-dance and off-key singing.

Sweet sixteen.

There will be nothing sweet about birthdays going forward, just another day to count the ways he's missing, another milestone that turns the knife of his absence. From now on, every candle I blow out will just be a reminder of the wish that can never come true.

Jake's breathing eventually steadies behind me, but his grip remains protective, as if he could somehow shield me from tomorrow.

As sleep claims me, I let myself drift into dreams where time stands still, where laughter echoes across summer lakes, and Dad is forever calling us home for one more sunset.

10. Never Drinking Again

CHAPTER 10

NEVER DRINKING AGAIN

NORA

PRESENT DAY

I look like a disaster. Feel like one, too. My head's pounding like a drumline, and my body feels like it's been steamrolled. The reflection staring back at me is a stranger. The echoes of last night crash into me—the sharp snap of flesh hitting flesh, the dark fury in Nate's eyes, the blood. Seeing him like that, consumed by darkness, was like peering into a chasm ready to swallow us whole. Part of me was pissed he treated me like some damsel in distress, but a bigger part was grateful he stepped in before Connor could go further.

Connor.

My chest tightens at the memory. That suffocating paralysis when he grabbed me returns full force—his touch burning my skin, his breath hiss by my ear. Those predatory eyes stripped away my sense of safety, leaving an indelible mark. The room shrinks around me, my breathing shallow and ragged. I'm caught in a web of panic, each thought tangling tighter.

Breathe, Nora.

You're okay. He can't hurt you.

But the words feel hollow. Connor's presence lingers in every shadow, woven into my nightmares. Yet despite this rocky summer kick-off, I refuse to let him steal what's left of it because I've survived worse.