Chapter 42. Green, Amber, Red

Tessa’s POV

I don’t open the envelope.

I carry it up four flights of stairs between two fingers like it’s something dead, and I put it in the top drawer of my desk under the stapler, and I don’t tell anyone. Not Knox. Not Darcy, who comes home from the hospital on Monday with a bag of pills, a sheet of discharge instructions, and strict orders not to lift anything heavier than a sketchbook.

Not Wyatt.

That’s the part that sits in my stomach all day Monday like a stone.

He needs a woman beside him. A Luna. Did he mention that?

He didn’t.

He held my hand at his mother’s grave. He told me about her last night in the hospital. He cried into my shoulder until the cemetery bell rang. He said Boston, Thursday, I’ll tell you, not today, soon. And I believed him, because when I asked him about the hospital bill, he told me the truth, and the truth didn’t smell like anything at all.

But he didn’t tell me this.

I don’t know wh