"I was about to call you yesterday, but then my brother called," I said.
It was early the next morning, and I was getting ready to continue my job at the shelter. The sun was just starting to rise, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink. I could hear the sounds of the shelter waking up around me—footsteps in the hallway, voices murmuring, the clatter of dishes from the kitchen.
I was supposed to call Kastiel yesterday night, but I was on a call with Elio. The conversation had gone long, longer than I expected. And after I hung up, I hadn't been able to face calling him. My eyes were a little puffy from crying, and my voice was still thick. Knowing Kastiel, he was going to demand answers about why I looked like that, and I had no interest in replying. I didn't want to explain. I didn't want to talk about Roma or the rumors or the way my chest had felt like it was caving in.
So I had gone to sleep instead. And now it was morning, and I was avoiding the subject.
