soft at the corners.
In the driveway, the sky was turning that thin ugly gray before sunrise fully commits. Tyler’s truck sat there washed and smug and paid for with my college money. Frost silvered the windshield.
Dad followed us onto the porch.
“Emma.”
I kept walking.
“Emma, stop.”
I turned because Mullen did, not because he asked.
He stood under the porch continue reading …
