AurelThe private elevator bell rings loud through the quiet living room.I lean my head back against the leather couch cushion, my bad leg propped up on three thick black pillows. My right knee aches under the tight ice wrap, but the heavy pine smell floating from Neylan's hoodie keeps my stomach calm.The elevator doors slide open with a smooth click.Hannah steps out first, her purse slung over her shoulder. Anthony follows right behind her, carrying a brown paper bakery bag filled with warm pastries, his dark hair messy from the wind outside."Look who finally made it," I say, my hands gripping the armrests of my wheelchair parked right next to the couch."Shut up, Aurel," Hannah barks, dropping her purse onto the kitchen island. She charges straight across the rug, dropping onto her knees right beside my hip. She wraps her arms around my neck, pulling me into a tight hug that smells like sweet vanilla and fresh laundry."Careful with him," Anthony says, setting the bakery bag ont
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