I was grateful—very grateful that Mrs. B had entrusted her house to me, and my dad was right that I would have more space to focus on the things I'd like to do, but moving to Tala's house meant she was really gone. It meant I wouldn't be able to see my dad and Dylan in the mornings, wouldn't live under the same roof with them. It meant I needed to face reality and the hundred unpleasant things that came with it. I could stay in my room and pretend that nothing had changed in my world, but none of that was real. Life moved on with or without me. And there would be consequences. There always were. People leave all the time, hurt each other, forget each other. It's a natural course of life, so why was I fighting it so much? I wanted to zoom in to the real problem, but I kept zooming out. "Kara?" A knock on the door. "You sleeping, sweetheart?" The door opened. I sat up and saw my dad poke his head in. "I know you said you're not hungry," he said, opening the door wider and brandishing a plate of sandwich and a cup of tea. "So I made you a light sandwich." I didn't feel like eating, but I certainly wouldn't hurt my dad's feelings by rejecting the food he made for me. "Thanks, Dad. Just leave it here. I'll eat it in a bit." "Sleepy?" "More tired, I guess." I could sense that he wanted to talk, but he just sat at the foot of the bed and stayed quiet. "Are you worried about me? Don't be." To prove it, I reached for the sandwich and took a bite. Swallowed, took another bite. Drank tea. "See? I'm eating. Solid and liquid food. I'm good." He nodded. "It's Friday night." "It's not a full moon, Dad. Don't worry. I won't turn into a werewolf." "Smartass." He chuckled, then turned toward me, studying my face. "You're supposed to be out having fun with your friends." "They all left me." I almost bit my tongue. It was supposed to be funny but had the opposite effect. "People always leave, don't they?" I dropped my eyes to my lap, rubbing my fingers against the cup. "It's just...life." "Have you been to Tala's house after they left?" "Not yet." "She texted me, said there was something delivered for you at the house. You should go check it out." "Why didn't she text me?" "She did. She said you never reply." "Oh." I glanced at my phone on the nightstand. It was dead. "Kara." I swallowed the lump in my throat at the tone of his voice. I heard the concern in it, the plea for a conversation about why I was shutting myself in my room. That he wanted me to join the living again when my heart wanted to stay dead. "I'm just tired, Dad. I don't want you to worry about me. I'm really fi—" He shook his head. "You can rest here as long as you want. There will always be a place for you here." "Dad." I felt my lip tremble. It wasn't what I expected him to say. I thought he would gently demand that I snap out of my funk. How could I forget his understanding? "I'm sorry I've been so out of it lately." I gazed at my dad's face, taking in the many worry lines. They look deeper, fanning out around his eyes and mouth. His eyes looked more fatigued than usual. Consequences. Here was one. Every action I made had an echo to the lives of the people around me. To the people I wanted to protect most. I hadn't been doing my shifts at the garage either. I simply assumed that Charity covered for me and didn't check. What if she couldn't? Didn't Andrew say they were going on vacation? Was that this week? Shit. What if my dad had been covering for me all week on top of his work? Then he had the painting job at the gym too. And still he was the one to come here and tell me that I could rest as long as I wanted. Fuck. I was done resting. Moping around, feeling sorry for myself. Hiding. I needed to get my shit together, work harder, make up for lost time. I shouldn't lose sight of my goals. I shouldn't throw away all the hard work I've put in so long. I'd take care of my family if it was the last thing I'd do. I'm steel, baby. I'm made of steel. "It's okay. You're giving me a chance to be a dad to you." He gestured at the sandwich. I swallowed the tears down and took another bite. "I don't deserve you, Dad." He rolled his eyes, and it looked so much like Dylan would do I couldn't help chuckling. "Stop talking nonsense. How about handsome boy? Don't you have a date tonight?" "Are you asking about my love life, Dad?" "Oh, no. No, no." He paused. "Can I?"