CLAIRE

I woke up the next morning feeling different, not lighter exactly, because the weight of everything that had happened was still there, pressing down on my chest. But clearer somehow, like blocking my father's number had cut through some of the fog that had been clouding my vision for weeks.

I got out of bed and found Julian already awake in the kitchen, coffee brewing and his laptop open on the counter.

"Morning," he said, glancing up at me. "How'd you sleep?"

"Better than I expected," I admitted, pouring myself a cup of coffee and sitting down on one of the bar stools. "I thought I'd lie awake thinking...