Page 81 of Broken Pieces
I stop at the edge of the stone steps, right in front of the alcove.
The spot’s tucked away enough. Mostly hidden, out of view unless someone’s looking too hard.
I drop my bag.
My shoulders cave the second it hits the ground.
Cassie stops cold beside me. Her eyes flick from the duffel to the brick wall then back to my face.
“No,” she says, already shaking her head. “No. You’re not sleeping here.”
I drop down onto the step and lean back against the stone. It’s cold enough to bite through my shirt, grounding in a way that almost feels good.
“I told you,” I say. “I’ve got it handled.”
Cassie’s standing over me, arms crossed. “This isn’t handled.”
“It’s temporary.”
She laughs once. “You’re sitting outside a fucking library, Sky.”
“Just go home,” I say. My voice comes out flat, but my hands won’t stop shaking.
She doesn’t move. “You think I’m gonna fucking leave you here?”
“You don’t have a choice.”
“That’s bullshit.” Her voice rises. “You’re not staying here. I’ll call someone, we’ll find somewhere for you to stay tonight, and we’ll figure it out in the morning.”
“I said no.”
“Why not?”
“Because I said so.”
“That’s not a reason.” Cassie’s breathing is fast now, chest rising and falling. Her voice drops, barely a whisper. “You don’t deserve this.”
I glance away.
“You don’t,” she says again, voice trembling now. “You’re not some throwaway, Sky. “
“I am.”
“You’re not.”
“You should go.” I pull my bag closer.
Cassie doesn’t move.
“Go home,” I say. “You’ve done enough.”
“But I haven’t done anything.”
“Just go home, Cassie,” I whisper. “You can’t fix this. Just… please. Go home. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Traffic hums in the distance. A light drizzle starts to fall.
Her shoulders sink, but she still stands there, staring at me like she can hold me together just by staying.
