The shouting downstairs rattled the windows as I crouched just outside her bedroom. Voices I didn’t care to place—her parents, always at it. Same as last time. Same as always. It didn’t matter. None of it mattered except the girl behind the glass.

I pushed the window open, slow and deliberate, just enough to slip through. The room was exactly as I remembered: soft lamplight pooling in the corners, posters she’d carefully hung, little things that made it hers. And there she was, curled up on her bed like she was trying to disappear. She looked smaller somehow—smaller than I wanted her to be. Like the weight of everything outside this room was crushing her.

I dropped soundlessly to the floor, straightened up, and let my gaze find hers. God, it felt like I hadn’t seen her in years even though it’d only been a few weeks. Time never felt right anymore, but seeing her—Katie—brought something close to it. I couldn’t stop the smile stretching wider across my carved face.

“Hey,” I said, like it was nothing, like my chest wasn’t burning just looking at her.

Her head snapped up, her eyes wide as she took me in. For a second, she just stared, blinking as if she wasn’t sure I was real. I could see the way her shoulders tensed, caught between shock and something she probably didn’t want to admit—relief, maybe? Yeah, I’d take that.

“Jeff…” she whispered, glancing at the door before locking eyes with me again. “What are you doing here?”

I shrugged, pretending like I wasn’t buzzing under my skin just being here. “Couldn’t stay away. Missed you.” The truth came out easier than I expected—because it was true. Seeing her was the only thing that still felt real, even if I wasn’t anymore.

I moved a little deeper into the room, letting my eyes sweep over everything like I hadn’t already memorized it all the last time I was here. The way her favorite photo of us sat crooked on the desk, a book left half-open on her nightstand. All of it reminded me of the time before, but it didn’t hurt like it used to. Not here. Not with her.