A key to the Blackwood Tower rooftop. His private escape, four hundred miles away. Cameron turned it between his fingers, his chest tight with something warm and heavy.
He pulled out his phone and opened the private chat.
Cameron: The key arrived. Thank you. The study group was loud. I forgot how loud normal people are.
Aaron: Loud is not always bad. How was the coffee?
Cameron: Terrible. The cookies from my mother taste better.
A pause. Then.
Aaron: I'll inform my chef. We clearly have a cookie problem. Settling in?
Cameron: The "cousins" are doing pull-ups. I think they're trying to impress you. I went to a study group. It was normal.
The typing dots appeared, then stopped.
Aaron: "Normal" is underrated. I'm glad.
The conversation was short. Calm. Nothing dramatic. And somehow, that made it better.
——————
