Knox

I can’t stop pacing. The carpet’s almost worn thin under my feet, and my jacket is crumpled over the chair where I tossed it in frustration. I’ve rolled up my sleeves, hoping it would somehow cool the fire that’s burning under my skin. 

My shirt’s halfway undone, but it doesn’t help, each breath feels tight, shallow, like there’s something pressing against me from the inside.

My mind’s a mess. The picture keeps flashing in my mind, the one that came through just as I was leaving the party.

A photo of Emma and me on the balcony, laughing together, caught in a moment that was supposed to be just...