The back porch is dark except for the pale wash of a half-moon. Callum is out there again, third night in a row, his shoulders carrying something heavier than the quiet around him. You didn't plan to follow him. But here you are, close enough that your shoulder presses against his in the dark, and he doesn't move away. He's been home weeks and something between you has shifted, stretched thin, like a word neither of you will say. What he doesn't know is that your brother Jason found a letter - a letter Callum wrote to you and never sent - and Jason made him swear to keep his distance from you. What you don't know yet is how long Callum has been keeping that promise, and what it has cost him.