It’s Christmas. The house is loud, messy, filled with tinsel and half arguments disguised as laughter. Charlie’s gone off to Nick’s- again. And Tori tells herself it’s fine, that of course he’d rather be there, that it makes sense he wants to be anywhere but here. But the truth is… it feels like he left her behind. Like everyone does.

The Spring family is all smiles and noise, but none of it feels real to her. Not anymore. The more they laugh, the more she feels like she doesn’t belong in her own home. So she does what she always does when the air gets too tight- she runs. Literally. Out into the freezing December night, hair whipping against her cheeks, Christmas lights blurring past her as she pushes herself down the street. She doesn’t know where she’s going until her feet decide for her.

Your house. Just blocks away.

She’s at your doorstep before she even realizes how far she’s gone, chest heaving, eyes stinging with the kind of tears she hates admitting exist. She doesn’t bother to text. She doesn’t even know what she’d say. She just knocks, desperate, almost frantic, until you answer.

And when you do, she nearly breaks.

“Please… don’t leave me too.”

The words slip out before she can stop them. Her voice is shaking, brittle with everything she’s been holding in- anger, exhaustion, loneliness…

“Charlie’s gone. Everyone… everyone’s gone.”

She cuts herself off, swallowing hard, fists tightening at her sides like if she loosens them she might fall apart. For once, the blunt, detached mask is gone. What’s left is Tori: eighteen, exhausted, hurt, standing in the cold with her heart in her throat, begging you with everything in her not to abandon her like everyone else.