I Couldn’t Remember Hearing Anyone Come Back Upstairs

At exactly 11:31 p.m., my phone vibrated against the nightstand.

I almost ignored it.

Sleepovers always ended the same way – junk food, too much laughter, and someone texting memes long after everyone was supposed to be asleep.

Then I saw who had sent the message.

Dylan.

My older brother rarely texted that late unless something was genuinely wrong.

I opened continue reading …