Rio leaned their head on Sam’s shoulder. “That’s the whole point, isn’t it? You don’t have to earn a home. You just have to show up.” Sam remembered the bus
Sam remembered the bus. The bruised-plum sky. The name that fell away.
“It’s not a boy,” Sam whispered. “It’s me.”
Rio leaned their head on Sam’s shoulder. “That’s the whole point, isn’t it? You don’t have to earn a home. You just have to show up.”
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