I didn’t sleep after he left.

The fallen painting stayed on the floor all night. I sat on the edge of the bed staring at the messy lines I once hated, replaying every word Benedict had said. Tortoise. Letters. Always known where I was.

By morning the weight in my chest had settled into something colder.

My phone rang while I was still in yesterday’s clothes. Susan’s name lit up the screen. I almost ignored it. I did until after the third ring.

I answered. After all she was my best friend for years.

“Kat… please just listen.” Her voice was careful, soft in the way people get when they...