PREVIEW

... t faded into the dim gray of evening.

Billy still hadn’t moved.

His back rested against the wall, legs folded close, the wooden floor beneath him cold and unwelcoming — though he barely felt it.

His fingers were curled into the hem of his shirt, white-knuckled.

His head rested gently against the wall, turned just enough to catch the shadowed outline of the door where Artur had stood.

The room was hollow—quiet in the kind of way that makes everything louder ...

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