Page 119 of Danger

He drags a chair closer and sits, slow, like if he moves too fast I might disappear.

He doesn’t touch me right away. That’s the first thing I notice. His hands are wrapped tight around each other like he’s holding himself back.

“Hey,” he says. It’s rough. Low. Used up.

My throat hurts when I try to talk. “Two weeks, huh?”

He nods once. “You had us scared to death.”

Us.

I close my eyes and try to grab the last thing I remember.

Morning light. The feed buckets. Walking to…

Then—gravel.

My chest tightens.

“I was driving,” I whisper.

His jaw flexes. “Don’t,” he says gently. “You don’t gotta figure it all out right now.”

I look at him. He looks… wrecked.

There’s cuts on his knuckles. His eyes are red like he hasn’t blinked in days.

“Did you break something?” I ask.

He almost smiles. “Just a few chairs,” he shrugs. “Maybe a vending machine.”

That’s when I know. He’s been unraveling.

I try to speak. It comes out a whisper. “Wait, I remember…”

His head snaps up. “What do you remember?” he asks quietly. Carefully. Like the wrong answer might shatter something.

“I was…” I close my eyes, reaching for it. “I was upset.”

His grip tightens. A muscle jumps in his jaw.

“I shouldn’t have let you leave,” he says immediately. The words rush out like they’ve been burning him alive. “I shouldn’t have—I should’ve stopped you. This is all my fault.”

His fault?

The memory hits like glass.

The driveway. My shaking hands on the steering wheel. The blur of tears. The way I couldn’t see the road. The sickening flash of headlights. I suck in a breath that hurts.

“I remember the steering wheel,” I whisper.

His eyes close. Just for a second. Like that was the worst thing he could’ve heard.

“I remember…” My voice breaks. “Rylee.”

Her.

The silence shifts.