I dialed, but no answer. So I sent her a message:
 
 Me:Emergency with Carm. Her dad died. Call me as soon as possible.
 
 Instead, I called Jayda. She answered on the second ring, cheerful and distracted. “Theo. You know me and your friend are in the middle of—”
 
 “Something happened,” I cut her off, not giving a fuck about her and Tyler’s drama. “Carmen’s dad passed. Her mom told me a few hours ago.”
 
 A moment of silence.
 
 Then, “Oh my God. Is she okay? Where is she?”
 
 “In bed. She hasn’t moved. She’s not talking to me. Not eating. I thought maybe if she heard your voice, it’d help.”
 
 Jayda’s tone softened immediately. “Put me on speaker.”
 
 I set the phone down on the nightstand and turned the volume up.
 
 “Carmen?” Jayda’s voice came through, warm and steady. “It’s me. Baby girl, I just heard. I’m so sorry.”
 
 Still nothing.
 
 I glanced at her—her eyes were open, staring past the window.
 
 “Carmen, I know this hurts like hell,” Jayda continued, her voice wobbling just slightly. “And you don’t have to say anything. But I need you to listen to me, okay? We love you. We’re here for you. You don’t have to go through this by yourself.”
 
 Nothing.
 
 Jayda tried again. “Remember when we were at Eden and I had to drive across state lines to my aunt’s funeral because my mom forgot to pick me up from school? You stayed awake with me the whole ride, and you just let me lean into you, and I said, ‘It’s too big. The sadness is too big.’ And you told me,‘We’ll hold it together until you’re ready to hold it yourself.’So let us. Let Theo. Let me. Please.”
 
 I reached for Carmen’s hand again, lacing our fingers together.
 
 She didn’t pull away—but she didn’t hold on, either.
 
 Jayda kept talking. Stories, memories, reassurances. For nearly fifteen minutes, she filled the silence Carmen refused to break. I think she hoped that the sound of home and the sound of someone who’d seen her through everything would bring her back.
 
 It didn’t.
 
 Eventually, Jayda sighed. “I’ll stay up. Call me again if she speaks. Or if she needs anything. Okay?”
 
 I nodded, even though she couldn’t see me. “Thanks, Jay.”
 
 After I hung up, I lay back down beside Carmen.
 
 Her fingers twitched faintly in mine, and for a second I thought—
 
 But no. She was still gone somewhere inside herself.
 
 So I stayed.
 
 Curled behind her, still holding her hand, I watched the seconds crawl across the clock. I whispered things she didn’t answer. Kissed her temple. Got up to check if she’d try the food again. Sat back down when she left it untouched.
 
 Maybe Izzy could help?
 
 I hesitated. She had a toddler now. The last thing I wanted was to drag her into this when she was likely surviving on two hours of sleep.
 
 But Carmen needed someone.
 
 I unlocked my phone again and pulled up Izzy’s number. The last message I sent was just a heart emoji after she texted me a picture of my godson and Darwin building blocks. Carmen had smiled so big when she saw it. That was only… God.A week ago.