I don't know if going back to Palemland is the right thing to do. Maybe it's the dumbest decision I've ever made. But I'm already on the plane, and it's too late to back out now. We're in the sky, the clouds are swallowing us whole, and my stomach's doing flips like it's auditioning for a gymnastics competition.
I keep staring out the window, but it's just empty blue and white, and none of it feels real. It doesn't feel like I'm going back home—it feels like I'm flying straight into something I'm not prepared to face. August.
The August I left behind wasn't the same one who used to yell at me more when I cried. After I told him Reece wasn't dead, something inside him cracked open, and I swear, I saw the storm pour out of his eyes. He went quiet, but not the peaceful kind. The eerie kind.
