Aeris slaps me playfully, but then her expression sobers. “Thank you, Hayes,” she says quietly, her voice packed with exhaustion. I know she’s probably seconds away from falling asleep. “For what?” She nuzzles closer to me, a tiny sigh parting her lightly bitten lips. “For fixing me,” she mumbles, and those three words bludgeon me into a powdery dust. “You’re not broken, Aeris.” She’s not. What is she talking about? Why would she say that about herself? “I am, though. Nobody’s ever wanted me like you have.” It breaks me that she can’t see how incredible she is—not just her body, but her
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