As he rings up my order, I fish out a couple of bills from my pocket, pay him, and pick up my drink from the end of the counter. Warming my icy fingers around the paper cup, I hold the door open for a pregnant woman walking in. I step outside as a bus pulls away across the street.
A yawning blonde woman in a maid’s uniform lifts a white canvas bag high on her arm. I tell myself it onlylookslike Juniper. It’s not her. It can’t possibly be her.
The woman lifts her head as if she feels me staring. She freezes. Large brown eyes widen in shock as her canvas bag—and whatever heavy thing is inside—drags her arm down.
It’s her.
It’s Juniper.
I drop my coffee, barely flinching when hot coffee splashes my ankle. “Juniper!”
Her face hardens, and she steps back.
Another bus pulls up to the sidewalk with a squeal as I’m sprinting around the back of a parked car. I get to the other side?—
And she’s gone.
She’s fucking gone.
I whip around in a mad circle. “Juniper!”
People are staring at me, but I don’t fucking care about them.
I sprint one way, then the other, ducking into shops and demanding to know if anyone saw a blonde woman in a maid’s uniform.
“Have you seen her?” I yell at anyone who looks my way.
“Nah, man.”
“Who?”
“Dude, get the fuck out!”
Yanking my phone out of my pocket, I stab three, hit dial, tuck my phone against my ear, and keep looking. The phone stops ringing, and I’m shouting down it before Torin can say a word. “I found her!”
Thump.
I’ll never know what heavy thing Torin drops, and I don’t care enough to ask.
“What?”
“I fuckingfoundher.”
“Where?”
Wheeling around, I shout out everything I see. As directions go, it’s about as shit as they go. But it seems to be good enough for Torin because footsteps thud down the phone line, and he says, “I’m coming. What did she say? Is she okay? How is?—”
“She’s gone.”
Silence.
“What!” He growls.
“She was on the other side of the road, and I ran across it to get to her.” I drag my hand through my hair, frustrated and pissed. “But she bolted, Torin. She’sgone. She saw me and she fuckingran.”
I swear I hear his heartbeat thudding down the phone. He doesn’t say a word. Just breathes. And he thinks. He’s definitely thinking.
“Okay,” he says, voice low. I don’t know whether he’s talking to himself or to me. “Okay. So maybe this is shock. It was just shock, and she’s scared. She thinks maybe we want to hurt her again, so that’s why she ran. She doesn’t know we want to apologize.”
