Raindrops were still falling from the tips of my hair as I pushed the front door shut behind me.
The walk from the gymnasium to home had dragged on, each step too fast, each glance over my shoulder too frantic. The echo of his voice still resonated inside me.
"He belongs to me, not to you."
Those words were like cold fingers wrapping around my throat. I didn't know if they were a threat or a warning—only that they still trembled within me, even now, in the light of the hallway.
I hung my jacket on the hook, my fingers stiff, as if I needed to hold onto the cold metal to keep from falling apart. Water dripped from the sleeves onto the tiles, small dark spots that disappeared immediately.
