My hands won’t stop shaking as I pick up my phone from the kitchen counter. I type Troy, NY into the map app. Then I calculate the time it would take for someone to get from Albany to Troy by car. Sixteen minutes. My eyes raise upward to the ceiling. I hear the shower running, and even over the droplets of water, I can hear Liam singing to himself. It couldn’t be. He wouldn’t. He’s not like that. He’s not like Jason. Not really. It’s a coincidence. It’s got to be a coincidence. I lean against the counter, my knees weak. I can still hear Liam singing in the bathroom above us, as the stench of
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Srsly it ends like that!?!?!?!
