Micah splashed cold water onto his face, his hands trembling slightly as he leaned over the marble sink. Droplets slid down his cheeks, mixing with the remnants of tears he hadn't fully wiped away. His reflection stared back at him from the mirror, pale, eyes slightly red and glossy, lips pressed in a tight line. He took a shaky breath and turned off the tap, reaching for a towel.
He patted his face dry, careful not to rub his eyes too hard. The moment with his grandmother had broken something inside him and rebuilt something else. He grabbed his glasses and put them on.
As he stepped out of the building, he spotted Darcy near the archway, standing just beneath the warm lamplight. The younger boy was frowning slightly at his phone, scrolling through something with his thumb. The moment he heard footsteps, Darcy looked up. And the second his eyes landed on Micah, his entire expression changed.
