VOLUME I ACT I CHAPTER FIVE Cracks in the Glass (Part Two)
VOLUME I
ACT I
CHAPTER FIVE
Cracks in the Glass
(Part Two)
The next morning, I found K sitting on the porch of my apartment building. Hoodie pulled up, headphones in, legs stretched out like he’d been waiting for a while. I blinked at him in surprise.
“Did I miss a text?” I asked, stepping outside with my hair still wet from a shower.
“Nope,” he said, pulling out one earbud. “I just… needed to see you.”
There was a stiffness in his voice. A tightness in his jaw. He looked tired, like he hadn’t slept much. My stomach flipped.
I sat beside him, and for a minute, we just stared out at the quiet street. Morning haze. Distant barking. Cars rolling slowly by.
“I had a weird dream last night,” he finally said.
“What kind of dream?”
“You were there. And so was my brother. And my mom. We were all in this big house. But none of you would look at me. You were whispering about me behind closed doors. Every time I opened one, the room would be empty. But I could hear your voices.”
I tried to swallow the lump forming in my throat.
“And then I opened the last door,” he continued, “and found your old phone. The one you said you lost a few years ago. Except it wasn’t lost. It was full of pictures of me. From years ago. Notes. Plans.”
I went cold.
“You ever have dreams that feel too real?” he asked, turning to face me.
“Sometimes,” I whispered.
“Did you lose that phone?”
I forced a nod. “Yeah. A long time ago. Why?”
He studied me for a second, then looked away. “No reason.”
But there was a reason. I could feel it.
He knew something.
We spent the rest of the day together. He insisted we act normal. Movies. Takeout. Jokes. But there was a tension in his laugh, like a rubber band stretched too tight.
At one point, I reached for his hand, and he let me, but didn’t squeeze back.
That night, when he dropped me off, he lingered by the door. “If there’s anything you ever need to tell me,” he said, “I hope you will.”
I stared at him, heart hammering. “Okay.”
He leaned in, kissed my cheek, and walked away.
I watched him go, wondering how many more times I’d get to see that walk.
Wondering how many truths he was already holding in his hands, just waiting for me to confirm.
Because the glass wasn’t just cracking anymore.
It was starting to shatter.









































































