Chapter 3

“What time do you reach Washington?” Nadia asked.

“Just after two.”

“So you're really taking the transfer.”

“Yes.”

“And Ethan?”

“We broke up.”

She was quiet for a moment.

“Are you okay?”

“No. But I'm sure.”

At seven, after a car accident, I'd stopped speaking at school for months. Ethan had been the boy who told the teacher when other children took my books and scribbled over my work.

He hadn't cured me with one heroic act. There'd been counseling, patient teachers, and many days when a single word was difficult. But he'd sat beside me without making the silence something embarrassing.

For years, remembering that boy had made it hard to leave the man.

Last month somebody followed me into the courtyard outside our apartment. I called Ethan thirteen times. He didn't answer.

I tripped on a step trying to get through the locked entrance. My ankle twisted. My phone struck the ground, and the screen cracked beneath my thumb.

I managed to call Caleb North, an old school acquaintance I'd run into again through work.

He lived a few blocks away when he was in New York. He told me to stay near the concierge's lit lobby, keep talking, and call emergency services if the man approached. Then he came down the street nine minutes later.

He helped me inside, stayed while security checked the courtyard, and drove me to have the ankle assessed.

Ethan got home an hour afterward.

“Poppy had a spare movie ticket. My phone was on silent.”

He didn't ask why I'd called thirteen times until he saw the wrap around my ankle.

Nadia's voice brought me back.

“Cass?”

“I'm here.”

A business magazine display beside the café changed to a photograph of Caleb. He'd built a logistics software company whose name I kept seeing on delivery vans. Ethan's friends recognized him and started talking about the acquisition he'd recently turned down.

My phone vibrated.

Caleb: I'll be in Washington. Happy to meet your train if you'd like.

I looked toward Ethan. Poppy was leaning against his shoulder to see his screen. He didn't move away.

I typed back: I'd like that.