CALEB The streets start to suck the life out of the air as we turn into my old neighborhood. The houses shrink, the yards get tight-fisted. We pull up to my family’s house, and the whir of Vanya’s rental car is the only sound in the dead air. This is Shiloh Creek. A place I haven't been since Thanksgiving. The air is thick and sticky, a wet blanket compared to the crisp chill of our university town. For me, it’s just heavy. A physical weight pressing down on my chest. “Sweet,” Vanya says, her tone too light, taking in the house. It's a white bungalow with paint so gleaming it’s a throw-off. “Don’t get your hopes up,” I mutter, opening the trunk. The two small bags we packed for the weekend feels crazily inadequate for the emotional baggage I’m hauling. As we walk up the concrete path, the front door creaks open, and my dad is there. A stoic man with tired eyes that never seem to actually connect with me. His greeting is a curt nod. “Caleb. You made it.” “Hey, Dad,” I
Terakhir Diperbarui : 2025-08-09 Baca selengkapnya