The first photo appeared on a Tuesday afternoon in early spring, when the campus was just beginning to thaw and the cherry trees along the quad were threatening to bloom.

It was nothing dramatic—just the two of them at the campus café, the one with the mismatched furniture and the cat that slept on the windowsill. Jayce's arm was draped around her shoulder, casual and possessive all at once. Her head was tilted toward him, honey-brown hair catching the pale sunlight, a smile on her face that she didn't know she was wearing. Both of them were laughing at something on his phone—a ridiculous video one of his club members had sent, something so stupid that she had snorted tea through her nose.