The Truth Was Three Hours Away… and Waiting at a Front Door
I barely slept that night.
I didn’t eat.
I just replayed every moment I’d been told, every silence I’d accepted, every detail I’d never questioned because grief made it feel wrong to question anything.
Lauren’s number was still disconnected.
But her mother’s address hadn’t changed.
Before sunrise, I was in my car driving three hours to a town I hadn’t thought about in years.
When Lauren opened the door, she froze like she’d seen a ghost.
Her hair was shorter.
Her face was paler.
But her eyes were the same.
