Finny is standing at the bottom of the stairs, his drink untouched in his hand. Sylvie is gone. I hear her laughter in the next room. “Hey?” he says. “Yeah?” “Don’t forget what you promised me, okay?” I try to flip through all of my memories of us, trying to find a promise that hasn’t been broken yet. There were a lot of promises; there isn’t much left. “Not while you’re drunk,” he says. My grip on the wine tightens, and I feel myself start to nod and then shrug. “You don’t need to worry about me, Phineas,” I say. “Okay?”
My babies. No, i hope she doesn't break the promise
