“Jacob?” I barely heard my own voice with its softness. Uttering his name made my tears worse. “How...” My throat bobbed, “How are you?”

“I'm fine, Farrah.” He briefly paused, and then, “How about you? Are you okay? You sound...upset.”

Even seven years later, he can still tell how I feel with the way I speak. “I’m—” I shook my head. There’s no use in lying again to the brother I just contacted now. “I am upset. I’m not okay.”

“Tell me how you became upset.”

I gripped my phone tighter even with my shaking. “Running away is something I realized I’m not good at. I want to come back...