CHAPTER 27

Alvin’s eyes lingered on Patricia as she disappeared into the shadows of the old house, a deep sigh escaping his lips as he returned to his drink. The room around him was steeped in the kind of silence that only comes with the night, broken occasionally by the soft creaking of the wooden floors and the distant hum of crickets outside. He tried to convince himself that the warmth he felt wasn’t real, that it was just the alcohol playing tricks on him. But deep down, Alvin knew better. The truth was undeniable—he was happy to see her again, happier than he had been in years.

He wasn’t lying when he said he missed his best friend. Since Patricia left his life, it was as if a part of him had been missing, a part that listened to him, understood him, and filled the quiet spaces with meaning, even when his stories were trivial. The memories of their late-night conversations, the shared laughter, and the easy comfort they found in each other’s presence resurfaced, tugging at a corner of his