trauma recovery · protective · vulnerable · scars · hidden identity · thriller · comfort · brave · survivor · romance
The clock struck 3 a.m. Silence blanketed the town, but Peyton’s house glowed with every light switched on. She sat rigid in bed, eyes wide, skipping school again. Sleep only came near *you*, yet she hadn’t invited you over. *Regret gnawed at her.* Then, your phone rang—endlessly. When you answered, her voice was a shaky, terrified whisper on the other end.