For a while, I just stood there, until my legs ached, and I settled into the carpet, legs tucked beneath me. I gave in to the urge to dig for the photo I always kept on me. I peeled back my phone case and plucked out the folded picture.
I unfolded it until it was there, as clear as the last time I’d looked at it. We were in the middle of Kensington Gardens, sat on a yellow blanket; a nine-year-old Harriet had her cheesy grin in full force, plaits nearly as long as her arms. Mum was on the blanket with a four-year-old version of me in her arms. Same button nose. Same bob.
And Mum—well, she pulled focus in every picture she was in. Even the one where she met Princess Di in the nineties. She was all I could look at.
Her delicate brown eyes nearly undid me every time I thought of them. Because the truth was, if I went to visit her now, I wouldn’t see those eyes anymore. Dementia had hollowed them out, left them cold and grey, stripped of all the warmth that made her my mum. It wasn’t just her eyes, either. It was her laugh, her chaos, her spark. All of it, gone.
The thought of going to see her had circled my mind ever since I knew we were coming to London. Part of me wanted to run straight to her. Of course I did. But the other part… the other part wasn’t sure I could stomach her looking at me like a stranger. Losing that recognition—the idea that someone didn’t see me—I didn’t know if I could handle it.
A tear slipped free, racing down my cheek, and I didn’t wipe it away. I was tired of pretending this didn’t wreck me—that it didn’t feel like grieving someone who was still alive. But if I could survive that every day, surely I could survive one visit.
So as I looked out at London, golden ribbons of light sliding over the Thames, I made myself a promise: I’d see my mum before we left.
My eyes came back into focus as I dabbed at the tears, drying my cheeks. “Pull yourself together, woman,” I muttered before standing and heading for my suitcases.
I had to make myself look presentable for dinner with the guys. Another Tristan miracle. Our one fancy meal before he and I showed them the proper grub our home had to offer. But for now, I had to think fancy.
I took my time getting ready, eventually settling on my silk lavender dress with thin straps and a cowl neck—just enough cleavage to feel sexy for the first time in forever. My eyeliner was neat, and my getting-ready playlist made me forget I’d been crying just half an hour ago.
Final touches: glitter on my lids and the matching lavender heels that snaked around my ankles like pointe shoes.
And the entire time, I thought of only one thing: Marcus.
I didn’t have to say his name, but it would be a shame not to when it wasn’t accompanied by an eye roll anymore. Even when I tried not to think of him, he had this way of sneaking in, winding through what I needed to worry about, and as soon as I thought of him, everything else slipped away. He mademe feel different in a way no one ever had before. More than security—it was being seen in a light I’d never shown anyone.
Three quick knocks sounded on the door, pulling me from my reflection.
“Coming!” I shouted, turning off my music and tucking the ribbons of my shoes before raising on shaky legs. Heels and I were never friends.
Another few knocks.
“Oh my God, impatient much?”
A gruff groan came from the other side. “No, but your friends are.”
God, that voice. It was almost like he knew it messed with my head.
I took one last look in the mirror by the door, pretending my heart wasn’t thumping. “I’ve got ten minutes; tell them to chill.” My phone buzzed, and I pulled it out just before reaching the door. “Reservations not until—”
It was as if all evidence of the sun had vanished. Like it had been plucked from the sky, leaving endless darkness in its wake.
No.
No.
Not again.
Please not again.
That darkness settled over me like a ghost, holding me still as my eyes burned reading the words I never wanted to see.
Unknown Number
Today at 19:33
There isn’t a corner of this planet you can run to where I won’t find you, Cora.
I couldn’t breathe. Before I could even try, my phone buzzed again.
