We can just jump to the summer before my senior year. I think you've heard enough about the crippling depression and awful funk I was in after my dad died. It got better…eventually. I don't think there's ever a day when I don't feel like Dad was missing from my life, but it got easier to deal with that pain.

Nina moved in with me when I got back to New York. I just remember walking through the door and smelling Cuban food and Clorox. She had cleaned the entire apartment by herself and made me food so I wouldn't be alone when I got back. I barely remember anything, just that she kept slipping into her Spanish and then apologizing because she thought she was turning into her mother.

It was the best thing for me. And eventually, we moved into a two bedroom in the same building. "I have to turn in my term paper at noon, but let's go shopping today," she said as she packed. Then excitement racked through her and she clapped her hands. "Senior year, here we come!"

I took a bite of my cinnamon brown sugar pop tart and nodded. "I actually have to drop off something on campus so I'll come with you."

"Wait, wait, wait," she stopped me. "Is that all you've eaten this morning?"

Looking down at my breakfast then back at her in confusion, I shrugged.

"That is not breakfast, Leah," she scolded.

"It's just something quick, it's fine," I dismissed as I slipped on my sandals for the day. New York summers are nothing but humidity, almost like someone open mouth breathing directly onto your face at all times. The less clothing you wear, the better. "It's too hot to eat," I tried to reason.

Nina rolled her eyes. "You think I don't notice that you exclusively eat Pop Tarts, Trader Joe's frozens, and iced coffee? Leah, please."

"I will grab something on campus, I promise," I told her. "Let's go."

"More than coffee?"

"Yes, more than coffee, Nina; come on," I laughed, herding her out of the front door.

It's hard to pinpoint when being in New York without…him…became normal. When I got back, I threw myself into school and distracted myself as much as possible. I turned down the gallery opp in Hell's Kitchen almost as soon as I stepped foot in the city. Call it a mistake; it could definitely be considered one. I hadn't really been in a creative space between finding out about Dad and leaving a certain someone back at home. So I focused on the history part of my art history major. I put my camera away…again. But anyway…

Nina and I parted ways at the library so she could drop off her books and print her paper. I started walking across the way past Administration with headphones plugged in my ears. The gust of air conditioning blew in my face as I pushed open the door. It was almost a natural instinct at this point. Digging my own final paper out of my bag, I was almost relieved that this was the end of my junior year. I was in the home stretch.

I knocked twice on my professor's open door, taking one earbud out. But I realized too late that there was someone else in the office. "Oh, I'm so sorry," I blurted. "I didn't mean to interrupt."

"No, it's fine, Ms. Clearwater. What can I do for you?" Julian Gerard leaned back casually in his chair. One of the history professors was sitting across from him. Dr. Rodman, I think. Everyone said he was a horrible professor so I dodged every time I saw his name on an enrollment form.

I gave a sheepish smile before holding up my paper. "I just wanted to get this in before your 5 o'clock deadline," I told him.

He pointed his pen to the table sitting outside the door. "The Dropbox is over there, as usual," he said, a slight smirk on his face.

"Right," I nodded, feeling a little embarrassed. "Sorry again."

I started to turn away when I heard him call me back, "Ms. Clearwater."

Almost in the clear. I pivoted back, "Yes?"

Julian leaned forward in his chair, resting his elbows on his desk. "Do you happen to have the Friedrich textbook I loaned you for your research?" he asked.

I palmed my forehead. "Oh god, I forgot it at home. I can bring it by later, if you'll be around in the afternoon."

He waved it off. "Don't worry about it. I'm sure we'll cross paths again before the end of the week," he said. "Have a good day, Ms. Clearwater."

"You too, Professor Gerard," I said as I left my paper in the Dropbox.

Yes, Julian Gerard was my professor this semester. Yes, it was really uncomfortable and weird at first, but I had to figure out how to let it not get to me. I had seen him on campus second semester of my sophomore year after there was a small tiff involving him nominating me for a study abroad trip to Florence the same year my dad died. And when I saw him again, he seemed a lot less…Julian than normal.

"Yikes. I've seen stressed, but, good lord, you look horrible," Julian chuckled as he approached me in a coffee shop right off campus. I had been there all afternoon trying to get caught up in my art class. When untalented meets uninspired, it's a nasty thing.

"Oh, thank you so much," I said sarcastically, closing my sketchbook. "I've been surviving on coffee and pop tarts for three days."

"Do you mind if I sit?" he asked, putting his hand on the chair across from me. I shrugged and told him to go for it. "You know they say when an artist suffers, her art suffers."

"Who says that?" I smirked. "Doesn't the best art come from suffering? That's how we got the renaissance, isn't it? The Jazz Age? Britney Spears' Blackout album?"

He laughed as he settled in his seat, "I mean, when you work too hard at art, it doesn't usually go well. You look like you're about five seconds away from ripping your hair out." He raised his hand to wave the waitress over. "Two coffees, one decaf, please." He winked at me when he said decaf. I felt my face get a little warm, but I didn't want to admit why.

I had seen Julian—I mean, Professor Gerard—around campus a few times since he got back from the Florence study abroad trip, and I was feeling grateful that he didn't feel a need to approach me after he overstepped yet again. So, seeing him actually be relaxed was refreshing. Nothing would ever happen though. He was a professor, I'm not that reckless.

"So, what are you working on anyway, Leah?" he asked, leaning back in his seat.

I sighed as I looked at my sketchbook. "I'm failing my intermediate drawing class. Turns out I'm no good at figures."

"You're probably just out of practice," he said, sliding my sketchbook across the table. He flips through it, slowly, diligently. "This isn't…that bad."

"Don't lie," I laughed, crossing my arms over my chest. "It's not great."

He flipped it closed again. "You just need to get out of your head. Who do you have? Ratterman?" I nodded. "Yeah…he sucks. Why don't you come by my office tonight? We'll get you out of your head, order some takeout so you can get some real food in your system, and we'll get you caught up."

It was a tempting offer. I didn't like being alone for a long time these days. I kept getting caught up in the stress of it all. But also the thought of being anywhere near this person after everything that's happened felt like a bad idea. I raised my eyebrow in contempt. "Why do you insist on helping me?" I asked.

Julian glanced at his watch. "Wow, that was almost a solid 10 minutes before you started questioning my motives," he said, shaking his head. "I would just hate to see such a bright talent get taken down by glorified stick drawing. So what do you say?"

When I signed up for a Photography in Old Hollywood class, it was taught by Dr. Battles, my advisor. And then at the last minute, it was announced that Julian would be taking over because Dr. Battles decided that she was ready to retire. So, not only was he my professor—he was my advisor now too.

But we were almost done! One more year and…and what? I'd be done with school, but the closer I got to graduation, the further I felt from a goal. I didn't know what I wanted to do anymore. I was still on the art history track, but between all of that talk from Adriana about striking while the iron is hot and not creating anymore, I wasn't sure what was next for me. The iron is cold now. And I felt like I had next to nothing.

That was next year's problem though. Right now, all I was focused on was having a good summer.

I walked away from the building and to the coffee cart. "Can I get a small black please?" I asked. Then Nina's voice rang in my head. "And a blueberry muffin."

My phone vibrated in my pocket. It was a text from Adriana in a group chat with me, Nina, and a couple of other girls we'd hung out with a couple of times. Lunch? was all it said. Then another text: maybe soho house?

Sadie, this girl who went to FIT, responded right away: Can't! My final is due at midnight, I'm scrambling with a crying emoji

"Leah mama!" Nina was trotting over. "You're lookin' at a free woman!"

"Senior year, baby!" I grinned as she hugged me. "We did it!"

She pulled out her phone and showed me Adriana's text. "Soho House?" she suggested.

"Martinis in a cabana? Sold."

XXXXXXXXX

Almost every conversation with Adriana started the same. It was always, "I have the best idea ever!"

Lightly waving down the server, I ordered another vodka martini with a twist as I pushed my sunglasses up on my face. If I told you that the past year has been more or less the same as afternoons like this, what would you think? It all felt very superficial; drinks at Soho House, dinners at the newest, hottest restaurant, spending weekends by the pool in the hotter months and trips upstate in the cooler months.

None of it was real. Not the Instagram pictures or the appearances at art openings or magazine parties or shows. It was fun for a moment, but as soon as it was over, you go back to being in your own head. Looking for the next thing that will make those thoughts quiet again.

"Well, it's not exactly my idea; it was inspired by Julian, of course. He's heading to the Hamptons for the summer and I was thinking, wouldn't it be so much fun to go to Montauk for a couple of weeks? We could totally crash with him."

"Or we could get our own summer house," Ava suggested. Ava was the model who I worked with the summer before my freshman year. She was studying to be a doctor and easily one of the smartest people I'd ever met. She took a sip from her gin and tonic and shrugged. "I mean, it would be easier to have our own space than having to rely on Julian to entertain us."

"She makes a great point," I agreed, as the server set my drink down. Out of habit, I grabbed my phone to take a picture for Instagram. Right before I was about to hit post, my brother's face lit up as his call came through. I hesitated, wanting to pick up for a second. Then I just let it ring until he hung up. Then I hit post.

"Plus he probably doesn't want anyone in his house for that long anyway," Nina added.

"Either way! We're sold on the Hamptons this summer?" Adriana asked, bouncing in her seat. We all agreed, making her even more excited. "Oh my gosh, it would be like something straight out of Something Borrowed!"

I looked down at my phone right as two texts popped up.

One from Seth: hey sis, call me when u can. miss u

And one from a particular unsaved number: where are you?

I discreetly picked up my phone to text back: I'm busy

The number text back right away: meet me in an hour

Me: if I'm done being busy by then

"Hello, earth to Leah," Adriana snapped in front of me.

I blinked as I looked up. I set my phone face down. "What?" I asked.

"Two weeks? A month? June? July?" Nina brought me back to the conversation.

I shrugged. "A month; half June, half July," I answered.

"Ugh, isn't she brilliant?" Adriana gushed. I tried not to roll my eyes. Now that I knew Adriana's game from the gala, it was so much easier to catch her little games as she played them. People were toys to her; there was almost no meaning to her words. "But we should go visit Julian while he's out there. Don't tell him I told you guys, but he might be cooking up a new shoot for this gallery in West Village. He's not doing a model casting; it's first dibs. And it pays even better than before."

"So much talking about Julian Gerard and not enough drinking," I interrupted playfully. "This is the last summer before we're thrown to the wolves for real. Let's do it up big and let's do it up right."

"Hell yeah, cheers to that," Ava said, raising her glass. "I will say though, he is still such a daddy. I need to know what's wrong with him ASAP so I can stop thinking about jumping his bones."

Did I miss the slightly concerning look on Nina's face when she glanced over at me? No. "You should bring your camera out for the Hamptons," she said casually.

I picked at the food on my plate before shaking my head. "I don't know if that's a good idea," I told her.

Ava gasped, "Oh my god, yes, Leah, you have to. Maybe we can get a Leah Clearwater/Julian Gerard collab 2017 edition. That would be incredible."

"Uh, we'll see," was all I said before I finished off my drink. "I have to run though. I'll see you guys later."

I was a little tipsy. Just tipsy enough to call that unsaved number as I hopped into a cab.

XXXXXXXXX

I pulled the sheet over my bare body as I settled back into the bed. It wasn't my bed. And it wasn't my sheet. It was his… "You didn't tell me you were going to be in the Hamptons this summer," I mentioned casually.

"I didn't? Hmm…I thought I had," Julian said as he pulled his briefs back on. "I've been meaning to take you out there."

"Adriana is already a step ahead of you. She wants us to do a summer house this year," I told him. "Getting out of the city and renting a house for a few weeks will be nice."

"'Renting a house?' No, that's ridiculous; you guys can come stay with me."

"That's not necessary."

"It wasn't a question." His tone was light, but his persistence was not.

Ok, ok, ok, fine. I'll explain. Just don't judge me. That day in the coffee shop, I was very set in my answer: no, I would not go to Julian for help with my classes. So I didn't. I stood strong.

But then Professor Ratterman insisted I take the extra help and conveniently suggested I talk to none other than Dr. Gerard. Was it orchestrated? Who's to say? Then a few late nights in his office later…

He was actually kind of funny. Like once he stopped trying to be the smartest, most charming person in the room, Julian was actually…likable. "Do you want another drink?" he asked as he got up from the floor.

"Just some water, if you have it," I said. It was about 11:00 and I had had two glasses of wine already to match his glasses of bourbon. As we worked, we got more comfortable. He took off his ridiculous tie and unbuttoned his shirt. His hair got a little messier. He was almost human. "I thought you were just a photographer. When did you start drawing?"

He set a bottle of water next to me before plopping on the ground in front of me. "Well…when I was a student, I couldn't afford my own camera so I had to rent one out from the art department. But you could only rent them for 12 hours at a time, every other day. So I would have these fantastical ideas for shots, but nothing to shoot them with. I would sketch for hours to commit them to memory and then do rush shoots. That's when I started selling to galleries for extra money until my trust kicked in."

"Oh, so you're a trust fund kid," I teased. "Who could have guessed?"

He does this chuckle that's deep in his throat as he took a sip from his glass. "Relax your wrist a little," he instructed before continuing. "Yes, I had a trust fund, but I tried to be smart about where I spent that money. Investments, properties, my degrees. Anything I blew here in the city was my own. I started making money pretty quickly from the galleries, which is why I insisted on you taking what you earned from the boudoir shoot. That money can change your life. And don't think I haven't noticed that you don't carry your camera anymore."

"We're not talking about me," I said. "We're talking about you and your endless art skills and millions of dollars. What else can you do? Did you write the next Great American Novel too?"

"I feel like you're mocking me," he quipped.

"Smartest man in the room," I mumbled as I continued to draw.

"Ok, can we just start over?" Julian blurted. "I think we may have misstepped somewhere in the past year or so and I don't like the impression that I've made."

This surprised me. I didn't think Julian cared about anything other than himself. The way he carried himself, I would have never guessed that he had any interest in other people, let alone me.

"Why'd you stop taking pictures?" he asked.

My heart lurched a little. That very expensive camera that my family bought for me for my high school graduation was sitting in a box in my closet. Old habits die hard. "Just…" I trailed off before settling on, "Just not feeling inspired lately."

"What's blocking you?"

I set my sketching pencil down and looked up at him. My jaw clenched for a second as I debated on how much information to disclose. Crossing my legs, I sighed, "I was about to get started brainstorming ideas for Kyle's Hell's Kitchen set when I had a really bad falling out with my ex-boyfriend. The night of the gala…you probably remember that." I paused. "And then my dad died. Photography just didn't seem that important anymore."

His eyes softened almost instantly and his face crumbled a little. "I'm sorry for your loss, Leah," he said sincerely. "I understand what that's like. Losing a parent. I lost my dad too when I was about your age."

"I'm sorry to hear that…"

He nodded before putting a hand over mine. "I won't say those cliché things like 'he'd want you to keep creating' or 'he just wants to see you happy' because I know how annoying that can be. But I will say that I am here to talk…or not talk, as much as you want."

I looked down at his hand and then turned mine until we were palm to palm. I felt like crying in that moment. It was relieving to not be pressed about how I'm feeling at every point. People were over-catering to me. Treating me like a child. "Thank you," I said, swallowing the lump in my throat. "That means a lot to me."

I don't know if it was the wine or maybe his words or just knowing that someone knew what I was feeling, but I let my guard down in that moment. And as I looked into his big, brown eyes, I saw a kindness in them that I'd never seen from this person before. An understanding. His eyes flicked down to my lips for a split second before up at my eyes again.

He didn't taste like vanilla and cake frosting. In fact, when he kissed me, he tasted like bourbon and peppermint gum. It was different. I think I needed different.

Julian didn't make me better. Over time, the talking and not talking turned into more not talking than talking. It was afternoon quickies and middle of the night texts. Romps in his office during office hours and early morning drop offs. We spent a lot of time in his Upper West Side loft, dodging phone calls and staggering our exits.

Sometimes I would get really fed up with his superiority complex and I would want to quit this…whatever we were doing. And then sometimes he would act like an actual human being. Like when he paid for my ticket to Hawaii. It was my 21st birthday and Rebecca's wedding. I had enough money to get there, but not enough for anything else like eating or my bridesmaid dress. Julian helped me get there so I could celebrate with my best friend as she married the love of her life. We never thought Becca would actually settle down; it was a momentous occasion.

"Well, you should be the one to mention it to Ana then the next time you see her," I told him as I gathered my bra and panties. No one knew that Julian and I were hooking up. Not Adriana, not Nina, not Bex, certainly not Rachel. God, if I told Rachel, it would only be a matter of time before it got to Paul.

We hadn't spoken since I left home. Well, not directly. I'd heard things about him through Rachel and I'm sure Rachel has let things slip about me over the years. "Why wait though?" Julian walked into the bathroom. I heard the water run. "I was going to head out this weekend to scope out the landscape."

"Oh, for that super secret project that you're putting together?" I smirked. He came out of the bathroom with wet hair. "I know about that too."

"You all are obsessed with me," he joked as he kneeled onto the bed and kissed me. "I do need an assistance though, if you're interested."

"No thanks," I said lightly, pushing him away from me so I could get dressed. "I'm not the assisting type."

"Great, you'll be behind the camera then where you're supposed to be." He dared me to challenge him. Instead of answering him, my phone started to ring. He picked up my phone and handed it to me. "You better get that. It could be important."

XXXXXXXXX

"You are living the life we always dreamed of, Lee! The parties, the glam, ugh, it's all so exciting. Why don't you sound happy?" Rachel asked on FaceTime on my phone as I was packing my suitcase.

"I just miss you guys, that's all," I told her.

"I'm sure lying by the beach in the Hamptons will make that all better," Bex teased from the other FaceTime on my laptop. Group FaceTimes weren't a thing yet, so we had to make due.

Nina knocked as she walked into my room. She had 6 bathing suits in her hand. "Which ones should I bring?" she asked frantically. She held up a red one piece, a flower bikini, a Tiffany blue bikini, a black one piece, a black bikini, and another black bikini.

"It's the beach, Nina," I giggled. "Bring all of them."

"Oh my god, you're so right." She rushed back out of the room.

"I wish you guys could come," I admitted to the twins. "This is something we always talked about doing together."

"We still can! When you're a rich and famous photographer, you'll fly us out in your private jet and we'll swim our worries away," Rachel grinned. Just then, the door swung open behind her and a bunch of the rowdy boys came through, hooting and hollering. "Hey, hey, hey!" she yelled at them. "I'm on the phone."

"Sorry, Rach," a few of them mumbled as they crammed their way into Billy Black's tiny red house. The phone moved a little. I saw Paul right as he walked over the threshold. I watched him pull an old football tee over his chest and run a hand through his cropped hair. It was the first time I'd seen any part of him in almost 3 years. Then the phone moved away. "Oh shit, is that Leah?" I heard Jared in the background.

"Leah?" Paul sounded surprised.

"Let me see!" Jared tried to grab the phone from Rachel. She told him to go away, but he had the phone in his hand before she could take it away. "Hey college girl! How are you?"

"Why are you terrorizing my friend, Jared?" I poked at them.

"Your friend is holding food hostage so I have to steal you until she delivers the goods," Jared shrugged.

"Wait, let me talk to my sister!" I heard Seth shout. My stomach dropped a little at the sound of his voice. He snatched the phone out of Jared's hand and walked away from the group. "Hey, I called you. You didn't call me back?"

I sat on the bed and picked up the phone. "I'm sorry, Seth. It's just been really busy. I meant to call you back; I just forgot."

"Well…that's alright. I just wanted to check on you." He was looking at me with those innocent eyes. "Mom misses you."

Fuck, there's that guilty feeling. "I miss her too. And you. Look, I have some things to take care of, but I'll call you soon, I promise. Tell Rach I'll talk to her later, ok? Bye Seth." I was rushing through my words as much as possible before hanging up the phone. I closed my eyes and sighed. "Shit…"

"Smooth," Bex commented. I turned to my MacBook to see her sympathetic smiling face. "When's the last time you've been home?"

"When's the last time you've been home?" I countered. Nina knocked again asking about swim suit covers. I told her to bring all three that she had. When she left again, I looked back at Bex who had a concerned look on her face. "How much would it cost to convince you to come to the Hamptons with me and my friends?" I tried instead.

"$0," she answered honestly.

"You could fly into JFK and take the jitney out. I'll come pick you guys up. Who knows? This could be the last Triplet adventure before we have to get boring jobs and pay bills." I folded my hands in front of me and silently begged.

Bex sighed quietly. She was walking around her new husband's house with ease. She had gotten married to this Samoan surfer who looked exactly like Jason Momoa with even more tattoos. His name was Solomon and he was perfect for her in every way. Like you've never seen Rebecca Black as mellow as she's been with Solomon. When she introduced him to me and Rach when we flew down for the wedding, it was like a match made in Heaven. "It's tempting," she said.

"Let it tempt you then," I pressed. "One week."

"I don't know, Lee, babe."

"One weekend then."

Her face cracked in a slight smile. She thought about it for a second. "I will talk to Rachel and see what we can cook up."

I squealed in excitement. "Oh my god, I love you more than life itself! Thank you!"

"I love you too," she laughed. "Call me later."

XXXXXXXXX

Welcome to Montauk. Where the rich take a break from their privileged city life and do the exact same thing by the beach, just in white clothes instead of black.

When we got to Julian's massive condo in the Hamptons, it was almost like stepping into a new world. It had these incredible floor to ceiling windows and a view of the beach. Four bedrooms, three bathrooms, and no New York City traffic noise right outside. It was practically paradise on earth. Julian opened up the doors to the patio to let the fresh air in. "Make yourselves at home," he sighed.

"Wow," Adriana said, looking around. "Casa de Gerard is fancier than I remember."

"It's had an upgrade recently," Julian smirked a little smug.

Nina hooked her arm through mine. "Let's go find a room!" she said excitedly. Every bedroom was immaculately decorated. The last bedroom at the very end of the hall had two full beds and a private terrace. "I can't believe Julian was on board with us staying in his condo. If I was a professor, I wouldn't want anything to do with my students in the summer," Nina said as she unpacked her bags.

"Yeah, well he's always had a special relationship with his students," I quipped a little as I unzipped my suitcase. My camera bag was sitting right on top…staring at me. And I was staring at it. It was an impulse grab right before we walked out the door. I wasn't sure how I felt about having it, but here we are. So I just slipped it in the bottom drawer of the nightstand and closed it tight. "I'll be back."

"Ok, hurry up though. We need to check out the pool," Nina called.

I ended up walking by the beach by myself. The water smelled saltier here than at home. I pulled my sweater closer to my chest as the water washed over my feet. My stomach had been in a knot since that little peak of Paul the other day. The entire pack was off of social media so I couldn't even stalk him the way the internet intended. I had no idea how he was, what he was doing…if he was seeing anyone.

I wanted to ask Rachel; I even drafted a text like 10 times to ask her how he was doing. But I could never hit send. The coolness of the water reminded me of the night everything ended. The last time I was home.

I missed it. More than anything. What I wanted was to sit by Dad's grave for hours and tell him everything. I couldn't do it though. It felt like every time I went home, something went wrong. So why set myself up that way?

When I came back to the house, Julian was sitting in an Adirondack chair on the patio with a tumbler of whiskey iced tea. It was a very on brand for him; only dark liquor, even in the summer. He pushed his sunglasses up on his face before he held out his hands wide. "So what do you think? You need to get a drink in your hand."

"It's impressive," I said, taking the seat next to him. "It'll do for now, I guess," I joked.

"Better than renting some run down house for thousands of dollars," he retorted.

"Touché," I smiled as I looked out at the water. I could feel him looking at me though.

"So, Ms. Clearwater—,"

My head whipped over. "Whoa. What are you doing? 'Ms. Clearwater?'"

"I want to talk to you about your future." He had his teacher voice on.

My eyebrows knit tight. "What is happening?"

"I was thinking of having a few friends over. Some art industry people. How would you feel about that?" he asked. I thought about it for a second and shrugged. "So here's what I'm thinking: you're going to assist this shoot I'm directing. Or maybe I'll call it co-directing. And I'll invite my connects over so you can start seriously thinking about what you want after graduation."

"Are you advising me right now?"

"Yes, I am. It's my job. Consider it an opportunity," he said as he stood up. Then he leaned over me and got really close to my ear. "Though I do like the idea of sneaking around with you this summer," he kissed my temple quickly before going inside. "Kettle martini with a twist, right?"

I watched him walk away and I felt uneasy. He brushed last Adriana in the kitchen, placing a hand on her hip as he passed. She looked at me long and hard. I couldn't tell if it was jealousy in her eyes or something else.

It didn't last for long though. Soon, we were all drunk in the living room, blasting music, welcoming in the official start of the summer. 2 martinis and 3 and a half margaritas later, I was stumbling back out the patio, holding onto the railing for dear life.

Don't do it, my sober brain was yelling at me. But I couldn't stop it. I dialed his number so effortlessly, you wouldn't even know I hadn't used it in 3 years. It rang three times before I heard a little click pick up. "Hello?" Paul's voice cut through me like a knife. My voice stuck in my throat. "Hello?" he said again. I didn't say anything. My mouth hung open like it was locked. No sound came out. "Leah?"

I hung up.