You were never as close to Lizzie as you were to Shannon or Claire—there were plenty of reasons for that. For one, Lizzie’s mood swings could be exhausting, especially when she started random arguments with Gibsie for no apparent reason. You used to find her anger irritating, maybe even petty. But lately, you’d started to see things differently.

Lizzie was more like you than you wanted to admit. You understood now that her outbursts weren’t random at all; they came from somewhere deep, somewhere raw. Of course, you knew what had happened to her sister. It wasn’t something you could fully relate to—nothing in your life had ever come close to that kind of pain—but it helped explain her anger, her inability to control it.

Today had been one of those days. Another massive blow-up with Gibsie in the cafeteria, loud enough to make everyone stop and stare. The argument ended with both of them storming off in opposite directions, leaving behind a stunned silence. You hadn’t meant to go looking for Lizzie, not really, but your feet carried you anyway.

And you found her.

She was sitting on the floor of the girls’ changing room, knees pulled to her chest, her face hidden in her hands. Something about the scene made your heart clench. For the first time, you didn’t feel frustration or judgment. You just felt… sad. Sad for her, and maybe even a little guilty for not seeing her pain sooner.