“We’ll need access,” Raphi said. “Most won’t let us in.”
“I’ll find a way.”
“Then we search for the shape of her life. That’s all we’ve got.”
Felix stilled. Let it settle in his chest. He held light little Lilly in his arms, her tiny breath steady against his ribs. If Maisie had chosen to vanish—if she’d stepped sideways into another name—he’d still find her.
He turned to Raphi fully.
Raphi’s hand landed on his shoulder. Solid. Kind. Too much.
“She’s not listed in Vienna,” Felix said, voice steady now. “Or London. Or Paris. Not in Prague. Or Edinburgh. Or—” He stopped himself. “She’s somewhere else. Just out of reach.”
He exhaled. Deep. Measured.
“We keep looking.”
Five years.
Hiding. Waiting. Or worse—trapped somewhere, needing him.
Felix’s jaw worked as the thought twisted in deeper.If she’s in trouble… if she’s alone and thinks I gave up…
Raphi’s voice cut in, tentative. “Are you sure it’s not time to let go?”
Felix jerked back, the touch like a heat wave. “You think I haven’t asked myself that?” His voice came out too fast, too raw. “You think I don’t know how insane this sounds? Every sane part of me—every logical scrap—says I should’ve stopped ages ago. And still…” He broke off, the sentence splintering. “Still, I wake up with her name in my mouth.”And of her in my heart.
He gave a brittle laugh. “I’m going to be the mad dentist of London. The man who’s asked every soul from Budapest to Dublin if they’ve seen the woman who once smiled at him like he was the only man alive.”
Raphi didn’t speak. His mouth tightened; fingers tapped once, then stilled. The silence settled in—not empty, but full. That kind of silence only old friends could hold between them, when nothing saidwasstill something.
“I’ve looked everywhere,” Raphi said at last, voice low. “What else can I do?”
Felix’s shoulders tensed. “Nothing,” he said too sharply. “No one can.” He exhaled, but it didn’t loosen anything inside him. “I know it sounds absurd. Every day, I fill hollows with gold. I patch teeth. Imend things. And still—” He pressed his palm to his chest. “There’s this place in me that nothing touches.”
Raphi ran a hand through his hair, the movement slow. “If you haven’t found her name,” he said, choosing his words with care, “then she’s changed it. And you know what that means.”
Felix turned too fast. “Of course I do.” He slammed his fist against the table. The sound rang out—dull, heavy—bone against wood.
Pain was registered, but only as a background sensation.
“You think I haven’t pictured it? That she married someone else? That she’s living some quiet, safe life under another name in another city—one I’ll never set foot in?” He inhaled, shaky now. “I still love her. I’d love her in a thousand versions of the world. Even if she forgot me.”
Raphi stared down, knuckles white on the chair’s edge.
“You’re breaking yourself,” he said. “Why not… stop chasing? Live the life you’ve built.”
Felix raised his head. There was no heat in his voice now. Only truth. “Sheismy life.”
He stepped closer. “Maisie’s the part of me that breathes. That works. That hopes.” He paused. “If Laila had vanished—no trace, no goodbye—would you have stopped?”
Raphi’s throat moved with a swallow. His face shifted, just enough.
“No,” he said finally. Barely above a whisper. “Never.”
Felix nodded once. “Then don’t ask me to.”
The words fell between them. Soft. Final. Like dust settling over a gold foil sheet—quiet, but unmistakable.
