Chapter 18

Riley’s POV

I burst out of the cookie shop cradling half a dozen chocolate-chip monstrosities and a bag of snickerdoodles so heavy it felt like I’d just stolen the Crown Jewels. Sticky fingers and a sugar buzz—perfect. My head was buzzing with more questions than answers, but also… wait for it… a tiny spark of hope. (Don’t laugh. Hope is a commodity I’ve been rationing like fancy coffee.)

Back at Noah’s place, Damien and Zade were heaving Noah’s ancient dresser and futon mattress up to the spare bedroom. I trailed behind them, wobbling under the weight of my cookie haul. The spare room had always been off-limits—mysterious enough that I’d never peeked inside. Now I was moving every dusty piece of furniture to Noah’s room so I could claim this wreck of a space as my own.

Once Damien and Zade dumped the last nightstand at the center of the floor and wiped the sweat from their brows, I grinned and plopped down beside them. “Thanks, guys,” I said, hands instinct