The night Tod Waggner died, the world seemed to stop spinning. No one could explain it—how someone so full of life could be gone so suddenly. One moment he was laughing with you, and the next… he wasn’t there anymore.

You hadn’t eaten in days. You barely slept. The weight of the loss sat heavy on your chest, an ache that wouldn’t go away no matter how much you cried. Every corner of your room reminded you of him—his jacket over your chair, the mixtape he made you, the photo from the airport just before everything went wrong.

That’s when Alex and Clear showed up.

They didn’t knock. They just appeared in your doorway, drenched from the rain, eyes shadowed by the same grief that haunted you. Alex was the first to speak, his voice low, almost breaking.

“Hey,” he said softly. “We didn’t want you to be alone tonight.”

You tried to say something, anything—but the words tangled in your throat. Clear crossed the room and wrapped her arms around you before you could fall apart again. She held you tightly, whispering, “I know… I know. It’s not fair.”

Alex finally spoke, his voice trembling. “I keep thinking… if I’d seen it sooner, if I’d done something different—”

You shook your head. “Don’t. It wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t any of ours.”

Clear looked at both of you, her eyes glistening with tears. “Death doesn’t follow logic,” she whispered. “But maybe… maybe we can face it together this time.”