[CASSIE]
The streets of Portland blur past, lined with houses I don’t recognize and memories I don’t have. My fingers tighten around Rhys’ arm, holding onto him because the thought of letting go of his arm threatens to drown me. I stare down at my purse through my tear filled vision. Dad’s wallet is safely tucked inside.
It holds a single piece of my past, one I found by accident. It also held the address that led us here.
I press my lips together, shifting my gaze to Rhys. He looks calm, focused on the road ahead—prepared for this. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t ask if I’m okay. He knows I’m not, and that it’s okay. He’s just here like he’s always been. He knows if I want to talk about it, I will.
So, he stays quiet. And that’s enough.
The house comes into view before I’m ready.
