Noah had never thought of himself as the kind of kid who kept secrets.Not really.He preferred facts. Straight lines. Clear endings. The hero says the brave thing, the bad guy gets caught, and the family sits together by the end of the movie.Real life, however, had not been acting like a movie lately.Real life was whispering in hallways, crying behind closed doors, and sending strange messages about cities he had only seen in books.Florence.He rolled the word around in his mind as he sat cross-legged on the kitchen floor, Lila’s phone still in his hands. The overhead lights were dimmed, leaving soft pools of gold on the marble tiles. Rain continued to pound against the windows somewhere far behind him, but the storm inside the house felt worse somehow—quieter, sharper.He looked back down at the messages.Tell Lila to open the box. Before Marcus does.It belongs to Ethan.That was the part he couldn’t stop thinking about.How could something belong to Ethan if it had been Lila’s
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