❝ –– perhaps it’s true that things can change in a day. and when they do, those few dozen hours, like the salvaged remains of a burned house—the charred clock, the singed photograph, the scorched furniture—must be resurrected from the ruins and examined. and suddenly, they become the bleached bones of a story.
Jake was halfway to going to bed when his doorbell rang. He took a breath and started down the stairs again and got the door. Seeing Teddy standing on the other side, looking considerably…injured, made his heart stop and his throat go dry, “Teddy? C-Come in,” he said quickly and stepped aside to let her in.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I know it’s late. I didn’t know where else to go.” Flinching at Jake’s sudden movement, Teddy tried to cover it up in vain. Her semblance of normalcy was fast fading; the last of her facade crumbling to dust at her feet. She could feel the cracks starting to set in — how long she’d last before completely breaking down was no longer up to her now.
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