-Sloane Pierce:
The next morning arrived cloaked in gray light, the kind of dawn that didn't feel like a fresh start but rather a continuation of the unease that had settled deep inside me.
My running shoes waited by the door, their laces neatly tied from the night before, but I stood in my hallway staring at them, motionless.
I hadn't slept well. The memory of yesterday—of Roxy standing in my office, smirk plastered across her face, helmet in hand, filling every inch of space with her chaotic energy—still lingered like smoke in my lungs. Worse than that was the fact that I had let myself almost lose control. She had been right; I had called her.
And that single act terrified me more than anything else.
Running was supposed to clear my head. It always had. But this morning, the thought of stepping outside again made my stomach twist.
