“You’re not. But…when did you first know I was missing?” Ario blinks, baffled by the question, but the wheels click together eventually. His lips turn white and refuse to speak. “It was when I texted you from the hotel in Costa Rica, wasn’t it? After it was all over.”

“It was only a weekend, Connor—”

“My last text to you was ‘I think she wants to kick me out.’”

“You’re always saying that—”

“And then I didn’t text again for two days?!”

“I thought she took your phone again!”

“You didn’t come by to check?!”

“Your mom scares the SHIT out of me, Connor! No, I didn’t do that! I’m an eighteen-year-old Muslim who had sex with her underage son, and she’s a MAGA lunatic! She could’ve called the cops on me right there. I’d be DONE, no college, nothing!” We stand at the base of his hill, huffing furiously, tearfully at each other. “I’m sorry, but I got scared.”

“She’s crazy, I know it. A week ago, I would’ve told you she’d never try to arrest you or whatever, but what do I know what she’s capable of now?”

“I’m sorry—”

“I’m setting you free. No more chaos.” I tug the recorder pendant off my neck and present it to him as a bounty for the death of our relationship.

“Connor, don’t.” He waves me off, refusing to touch it. “If you hand me that, I’m gonna scream.” He skips backward up his hill, motorized by an unseen anxiety that’s spiraling out of his control. “Please keep it. I ruined everything.”

“ARIO.” The bass resonates through my voice and settles him exactly how I wanted. “You didn’t ruin anything. Your recorder kept me going in a way I can’t ever explain. I’m always gonna care about you and nothing’ll change that.”

At the top of his hill, Ario thrusts both hands into his pockets and holds them there, wracked with tension. All he can do is nod. “Please be careful. I read all those comments, and the people out there…they don’t want you to tell your story. You have to be so careful.”

As soon as Ario disappears inside, I return to Agent Elms like a warrior finished with another brutal kill. She rolls down her window and gazes at me coolly through expensive shades. She makes me smile—I can’t put my finger on why. “DRAMA,” she sings.

That’s why.