CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
KOLBY
I'm a fucking mess.
It's a mantra going on and on in my head, and once everyone else in the house leaves, I start saying it out loud, over and over and over again.
"Don't go Indigo, don't go Indigo, don't go Indigo."
The front door opens, and Indigo, in all of her beauty, all of her perfectness, stands in the doorway.
"I didn't go."
a/n: hi don't hate me