Summary:

Some nights, alone in another anonymous hotel room, Shane scrolls through old photos on his phone. His face rounder. His smile easier. He tries to remember what it felt like not to think about food at all. The memory feels fuzzy, distant, like something that happened to a different version of him. He wonders—briefly, dangerously—if Ilya would notice if he got worse. Not better. Not “healthier.” Worse.