I knew more about her for never having spoken to her. We didn't need to. Because the way she looked at me sometimes, that said it all. She wanted me. She didn't mind that I'd stop by her apartment late, or that I'd watch her sleep, buried under her gray blanket, while the stars strung around her room blinked on and off to the rhythm of her breathing.


40. Avery

Adam was spiraling.

"Who was that?" Devon asked, stepping out into the hall. Looking at my expression, she sighed. "What did he want?"

"He thinks I'm going to call the police," I said, my voice shaking. "Or that I have already. He's losing control."

"I think he's already lost it," Devon answered. "He's not well. You know that."

"He's angry," I told her. "He threatened me. I have to call the police." I sat on the couch, and she joined me. "I don't know where he is, despite what he thinks, but I need to find him. To put an end to this."

I just didn't know what I would find when I found him.

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