Kya needed air. Not the kind that came from opening a window or stepping onto the balcony. She needed the kind that came from being around someone who didn’t expect anything from her. Someone who didn’t look at her like she was fragile or haunted or in need of protection. She needed Sadie.
So when Sadie texted her — Girl’s night? I’m k********g you. — Kya didn’t even pretend to resist. They met at a small café near the river, the kind with mismatched chairs and fairy lights strung across the ceiling. Sadie was already there, waving wildly from a corner booth, two mugs of hot chocolate in front of her.
“You look like you’ve been thinking too much,” Sadie said the moment Kya sat down.
Kya laughed. “Is that your way of saying I look tired?”
“No,” Sadie said, leaning in conspiratorially. “
