The mirror was clean again, but the words still burned behind Alex’s eyes.
She woke alone. Jordan’s side of the futon was cold, the scarf coiled like a dead snake on the floor. A new note lay on the pillow, folded once, the paper heavier than any before. She knew what it would say before she opened it.
Dare #12: Call Mom. Put it on speaker. Tell her everything.
Her stomach lurched. She sat up, sheet clutched to her chest, and stared at the closed bedroom door. The apartment was silent except for the low hum of the refrigerator and the distant wail of a siren. Jordan was gone.
She found him on the balcony, shirtless in the pre-dawn chill, cigarette glowing between his fingers. Smoke curled up into the bruised sky. He didn’t turn when the sliding door opened.
“You left,” she said.
“Nee
