The next morning, sunlight crept through the half-closed curtains of Maya’s bedroom, painting a soft golden glow across her small, quiet space. The air still felt heavy, as if last night’s emotions had soaked into the walls. Her pillow was damp from the tears she had shed until sleep finally claimed her.

Her phone lay on the nightstand, screen dark, but when she reached for it and pressed the button, it lit up instantly—so many notifications crowded the screen that she blinked in disbelief. The call log was overflowing.

Twenty-seven missed calls from Elias.

Fourteen from Mom.

Nine from Dad.

And Colton’s name… over and over, so many times she...