KATY
He muffled my name from the other side of his door. You'd think having a mansion meant he'd have better sound insulation—thicker wood or something. Pierce left me standing outside for almost a minute before he slowly opened the door, and I saw my first glimpse of his face in days.
"What?" he sounded exhausted and hurt with his words full of pain. I put the pain there—not only at Nanna's funeral but for the last few years. Forever.
My mouth fell open, but no words came out. I didn't take time to come up with what I wanted to say before I made the short walk to his place. I'd called his number to complain about the landscape – as was our weekly fashion – but he didn't answer. Pierce's number redirected to his rental company customer service. He cut me off.
I tried the number three d
