-Sloane Pierce:
The moment Roxy's crutches clacked softly against the polished floor and the door closed behind her and Mateo, the silence that followed felt heavier than any words could have been.
The faint hum of the air conditioning pressed against my ears. My breath was the loudest sound I could hear, along with the faint squeak of my shoes against the floor as I shifted weightlessly from one foot to the other.
I stayed where I was for a moment, unsure if I should move or not, as though the air was holding me prisoner in the aftermath of what had just happened.
My hands curled nervously against my bag strap, squeezing it as though it would anchor me to reason. But my mind wasn't anchored at all. It was racing.
I glanced around the room almost without thinking—my eyes tracing the chaos we'd left behind during the physical therapy session. The blanket that had been tossed aside lay crumpled on the couch, the edges curled under themselves.
