Cody lay stretched out on his bed, the thin mattress dipping slightly beneath him, his arms folded behind his head as he stared up at the off-white ceiling. The faint hum of the old ceiling fan mixed with the distant sounds of summer cicadas drifting in through the cracked window. The late afternoon sunlight filtered softly through the worn blinds, casting lazy stripes across the room — dust particles floating in the warm golden light like tiny, slow-moving stars.
Millie sat cross-legged on the floor beside his bed, her bare feet tucked beneath her skirt, the fabric of her pale blue dress pooling around her knees. Her fingers traced absentminded patterns on the worn carpet as she spoke in a quiet voice that barely rose above the whisper of the fan.
"You ever think about what it's going to feel like.." she began hesitantly. "This time next year? When we're starting college?"
Cody turned his head slowly, his dark eyes meeting hers with an easy warmth.
"Yeah," he said softly. "All the time."
Millie's lips curved into a small, wistful smile. "I mean... new dorms, new classes, new people everywhere. Different schedules, different lives. It's kind of terrifying, isn't it?"
He laughed, a low, steady sound that made her smile widen. "We've been through worse, haven't we?" He reached out, his hand brushing against hers.
"This is just another kind of scary."
She squeezed his fingers gently, grateful for the touch. "Yeah, but this is different. Growing up is supposed to be a good thing, but it feels like stepping off a cliff blindfolded sometimes."
Cody shifted, propping himself up on one elbow and giving her his full attention. "You know what keeps me sane when I think about all the changes?"
She looked up, curiosity flickering in her eyes. "What?"
"You." His voice was low but sure. "You and me. Whatever happens, wherever we end up, I see us figuring it out together."
Millie's eyes softened, and for a moment, the usual anxious tension melted away. "Do you really believe that? That we can make it?"
He nodded without hesitation. "I don't just believe it. I know it."
She laughed softly, but the trace of doubt lingered. "You make it sound so easy, Cody."
"It's not going to be easy." he said, brushing a stray lock of hair from her forehead. "But that doesn't mean it's not worth it."
She leaned into his hand, her breath warm against his skin. "I've been looking at colleges outside of town.. There's this one with an art therapy program I really like."
Cody's fingers tightened gently around hers.
"I'm really scared." Millie admitted quietly. "Scared we'll end up in different places. Different lives."
He smiled, a soft, reassuring curve of his lips. "We might. But I want you to chase your dreams, and I'll chase mine. And if that means we have to figure out new ways to be together, then we will."
She looked up at him, eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "You make that sound so easy."
"Maybe I'm just lucky to have you." he teased, nudging her playfully. "Or maybe I'm just really good at saying the right thing."
Millie grinned, her laughter light and free. "You're kind of amazing, you know that?"
He shrugged modestly. "You bring it out of me."
She reached up and kissed his cheek, her lips lingering a second longer than usual, her heart thudding in her chest. "Promise me we'll make it through this final year—no matter what?"
"Promise." Cody's voice was a soft vow as he pulled her close, their bodies fitting together like puzzle pieces.
Millie rested her head against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath her ear. The sun dipped lower, bathing the room in warm amber light. Outside, the cicadas sang their endless summer song, but inside this quiet bedroom, time seemed to stand still.
For now, the future could wait.
Millie shifted slightly, pulling back just enough to meet Cody's gaze. The light from the window caught the flecks of green in her eyes, making them shine with quiet intensity. For a moment, the easy warmth between them wavered, replaced by a shadow of something heavier.
"So..." Millie began hesitantly, biting her lower lip. "What happens now?"
Cody raised an eyebrow, tilting his head in confusion. "What do you mean?"
She swallowed hard, her fingers tightening around his. "You know. With... everything. If Harper didn't do it—didn't actually kill anyone—then that means the real killer is still out there, right? Somewhere."
The words hung in the air between them like a dark cloud, thick and unsettling.
Cody's jaw clenched subtly. He looked away for a moment, staring down at the worn carpet as if it might swallow the weight of the truth. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, careful.
"I try not to think about it."
Millie's eyes searched his face, looking for some sign of hope, or at least peace. But all she saw was the flicker of fear and frustration lurking beneath his calm exterior.
"It's scary.." she admitted softly. "Not knowing. Not having answers."
He nodded, his fingers brushing the back of her hand in a rare gesture of comfort. "Yeah. But some things you just can't control."
He didn't respond immediately. Instead, he met her gaze, and she saw the flicker of pain lurking just beneath his calm exterior.
"I'm scared." he admitted quietly, voice rough with vulnerability. "Scared that whoever did this could still hurt someone else. Scared that we'll never get closure."
Millie's eyes softened, her heart aching for him. She squeezed his arm gently. "I get that. I'm scared too."
A shaky laugh escaped her lips. "Feels like we're stuck in limbo. Like the whole world's holding its breath, waiting for answers that might never come."
Cody nodded slowly, a shadow passing over his face. "But we have to keep going. For the family... for ourselves."
"Together?" she asked, hope threading through her voice.
He reached for her hand, lacing their fingers tightly. "Together."
For a long moment, they sat like that, hands entwined, drawing strength from each other amid the uncertainty.
Outside, the sun dipped lower, bathing the room in a soft golden glow—a quiet reminder that even in the darkest moments, there could still be light.