
Alice died two months ago. Since the accident, Danni's world has been suspended in a strange, unbearable stillness. Her best friend still appears beside her in quiet rooms, empty streets, and late-night conversations, as if her mind refuses to let her disappear completely. When Danni's parents move to Providence for work, she is left behind to finish her senior year living with Charlotte Vence - Alice's older sister, the cold and painfully controlled woman who was driving the car the night Alice died. As grief settles over the coastal town they once shared, Danni becomes entangled in the lives Alice left behind: Samuel, the self-destructive ex-boyfriend spiraling after the loss, and Daniel, the quiet bookstore clerk whose presence begins to crack through her isolation. But grief distorts everything. Memories begin to feel more real than the present, guilt turns love into something dangerous, and Danni slowly realizes that surviving the accident may have changed her in ways she can no longer control.
Read the first 2 free chapters without an account. Sign in to continue the series. Premium posts still require sign-in before purchase.

I've been avoiding the world for three days. Charlie calls it isolating myself; I call it existing. The difference seems important. My room is still full of half-unpacked boxes: there are clothes on the chair, books piled on the desk, and an open suitcase in a corner that will probably stay there until Christmas. I'm lying on the bed with my phone resting on my chest.

Three days later, I remain convinced that my parents have completely lost their minds. The proof is right in front of me in the form of a red brick building by the harbor, while I try to pull a box that's way too heavy out of the trunk. My mother insists this is an opportunity for growth. My father insists it's the best possible solution. I insist that neither of them would be saying any of this if they were the ones about to live with Charlie Vence. "Don't make that face," my mom says. "What face?"

The empty chair is right in the center of the table and nobody looks at it. My mom talks about Providence as if the city were paying her to mention it, while my dad nods every now and then. Arthur Vence talks about offices, contracts, and opportunities, and Mrs. Vence moves the food around her plate without really taking a single bite. Nobody looks at the chair, but I can't stop doing it. Two months ago it belonged to Alice; now it's just an absence with a wooden backrest. "If everything goes well, we will be able to open the second office before December," my father says. "That would be ideal," Mr. Vence replies.