Chapter Fifty-Eight

Harlow

The house is too quiet.

It’s that kind of quiet that presses in, where every creak and hum sounds louder because you’re listening too hard. I sit on the couch with the TV on low, some crime show that feels like a sick joke, the noise just there to fill the space he used to.

Beckett didn’t come home last night.

He texted to say he was working late, that something came up. I told him it was f