Chapter Eighty-Seven

Savannah

The courthouse note doesn't turn into a verdict; it turns into more waiting, more legal language, more adults in suits acting like my life is a spreadsheet they can sort and filter until the truth appears. By the time we get home that night, my body feels like it's been wrung out, and my mind feels bruised.

Corbin makes me eat soup, makes me drink water, makes me sit with my feet up like