I didn't look up when I heard the footsteps; in fact, I didn't so much as move. On my best day, I wasn't a people person… and on my worst? I would much rather find a place to bury the body than talk to the person.
And this was not a good day.
If they were smart, they'd walk away.
But the steps continued to come closer, measured, purposeful. Not hesitant. Not apologetic. The kind of steps made by someone who knew what they were walking into and didn't flinch.
Dante.
He didn't say anything. Didn't announce himself. He simply sat down beside me on the cliff edge, letting the silence stretch between us like a shared secret.
I kept my knees hugged to my chest, head resting on them, arms wrapped tight like a cocoon. For a moment, I could pretend I wasn't falling apart, I could pretend I wasn't failing.
"Everyone else talks too much," I muttered without lifting my head.
