Chapter Four
Dawson
I didn’t want to let go of Evie’s hand. I wanted to stay right here with her. With some special magic, she had helped to dissipate that cloud rolling over me. And not because she distracted me—okay, she did distract me, but not in that way right this moment—but because of just the way she was so matter of fact, so genuine even when it might hurt.
Once again, we fell into a comfortable silence, this time with her hand warm in mine. Because I was me, and I wasn’t accustomed to letting myself experience anything this real, a thread of anxiety started to spool tightly inside. I was close personal friends with depression and anxiety. I’d learned they often came to see me hand in hand, taking turns testing my ability to withstand them.
Restless and not wanting to ruin thi
