When morning broke, Alex was gone.
He had vanished again, leaving only a text message behind—like someone slipping beneath the surface of the water without a sound.
The message was short: Sorry, I'll contact you when I can. Don't worry.
I couldn't help the sting of disappointment. Even though I had been an adult for years, it felt like I was still just the kid he couldn't trust to hold his own.
I rubbed my puffy, sleep-deprived eyes, staring at the words until they blurred, then let my arm drop with a thud against the mattress.
I realized now why he had been so ruthless during our training session; he had been preparing me for the moment he'd leave me alone.
While I grumbled about him being heartless enough to leave without a proper goodbye, a memory of the night before flickered through my mind.
As I had been straddling the boundary between sleep and wakefulness, I remembered Alex turning away and muttering something under his breath.
