Back at school, the halls felt quieter, heavier.
Ginny wasn't sure if it was the aftermath of everything that had happened, or if she was just projecting her own emotions onto the world around her. Either way, the weight of it followed her into the lecture hall, where she slumped into her seat and forced herself to focus on the screen at the front of the room.
She tried to listen to her professor. Really, she did. But her mind wandered, fragments of unfinished conversations circling back like vultures.
Lyle hadn't spoken to her much after that night. Sure, he'd muttered something about her being crazy, brushing her off like she was some irrational kid talking nonsense. Ginny had rolled her eyes at him, refusing to engage further. She didn't care what he thought—Lyle just didn't understand.
Of course, it wasn't that simple.
Lyle wasn't like Cass.
