The Shape of Guilt

The cab ride back to campus was quiet, the steady hum of the engine blending with the soft crunch of snow beneath the tires. Outside, the world passed in a blur of frost-tipped trees and icy streets, the overcast sky promising more snow before the day was out. I leaned my head against the cold window, my reflection staring back at me, pale and tired.

Elias’s words from earlier swirled in my mind: “You owe me a dinner date then.” A small, involuntary laugh escaped me, though it quickly faded.

Aiden’s confession still weighed heavily on my chest, as did my reaction. I’d avoided opening my phone after seeing Maya’s earlier text, unwilling to think about what might come next. Instead, I focused on the present—the snow-dusted campus that came into view as the cab turned onto the familiar road leading to the dorms.