Page 168 of End Game

My shirt collar suddenly feels rough against the side of my neck, and I tug it away.

Margot starts saying something to Cami while Dad gets up for more coffee. Mom asks Micah a question about work. I hear it all at once.

That is the problem.

My brain stops prioritizing one voice over another and begins processing all of it with the same importance—music, conversation, dishes, the refrigerator cycling, the lights, the smells, the pressure of the fabric.

I press my thumb hard into the side of my index finger and repeat the motion, trying to give myself one sensation I control.

It isn’t enough.

The tree flashes again, and my jaw has started aching from how tightly I’m holding it.

“I need a minute.”

Mom looks at me and nods immediately. “Of course.”

There is no offense in her voice and no attempt to ask whether I’m alright or when I’ll be back.

At least this has always been easy here.

I leave the dining room and head down the hall toward Dad’s office.

When the office door closes behind me, it takes most of the noise from the rest of the house with it. The reduction helps immediately, though not enough to stop the buzzing beneath my skin.

The overhead light has a faint electrical hum, so I switch it off. Gray winter light coming through the blinds is more than sufficient, and it doesn’t make anything feel… sharp.

I sit on the small couch against the wall and close my eyes.

The forced-air heat of the HVAC is one sound.

My breathing is another.

I concentrate on those two instead of everything outside the door and deliberately slow my breathing, counting four seconds in and six out until the pressure behind my eyes begins to ease.

A quiet knock eventually reaches me.

Three taps, evenly spaced.

I don’t know exactly when I started recognizing Micah’s knock, but apparently I do.

“Come in.”

He opens the door just far enough to slip through and closes it quietly behind him without touching the light switch.

That was the correct decision.

“Is Cami okay?” I ask.

“Yeah. Margot has her.”

I open my eyes. “Does Margot actually have her, or did you decide I needed you more?”

Micah’s mouth curves slightly. “Cami told me to come check on you.”

Of course she did. A complicated warmth settles under my ribs.

“She knows you.”