Chapter Thirty-Eight

As I walk up the driveway towards Miles' share house, the sun beats down onto my skin and I tilt my head back. My hair is wrapped in a loose bun on the top of my head, allowing the humid air and the heat of the sun to brush my face.

I sweep my eyes over the overgrown lawn, where four cars and Miles' motorbike are spread messily across it. I recognise Damon's truck and Emily's Mazda. The other two vehicles I have never seen before.

Like always, the front door is ajar. I step inside and am engulfed with hipster music blaring from one of the speakers in the lounge room and a stench of stale cigarettes in the musky air. I make my way down the hallway quickly, trying to move as fast, but as quietly as possible.

I arrive at Miles' door with no incidents and step inside without knocking. Miles is perched at his splintered desk, one of his long legs scooped under him, the other folded to his chest, his chin resting on his knee. He has a blue