NAOMI’S POVHe banged on my door at 3 PM. Not knocked – banged. Fist against wood, desperate, the sound of someone who'd been holding it together for hours and had finally run out of material.I opened it and he looked wrecked. Not the controlled version I was used to. Actually wrecked. Hair wild. Jacket stained. His hands – God, his hands. Knuckles split across both fists, skin peeled back and crusted dark, fingers so swollen I didn't think they could close. Breathing hard. Eyes red-rimmed and searching my face for something I wasn't sure I could give him."Equipment room." Low. Tight. Not looking at me – looking at his own hands. "Basement. Door locked from outside. No signal. Cole found me two hours later."He held up his hands. Torn skin and dried blood and knuckles that would scar over the ones already scarred."Sunflowers are in the car."Three words. That was the sentence that cracked him. Not the equipment room, not the two hours, not the blood. Sunflowers. His jaw worked. His
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