Her vision blurred. For a heartbeat, she thought she might actually collapse.
But then—something sparked. A glow, golden and insistent, the same warmth she’d felt in the bookstore last night. A single word formed inside her.
No.
No more folding. No more running. Catlyn wouldn’t have given up—not when it mattered.
Emma straightened. Her pulse kicked again, but this time it wasn’t fear. This wasn’t about points for effort. Maybe it was too late—but she didn’t know that yet. And she wasn’t going to stop until every possibility was gone.
“Indira,” she called, just as the actress reached the doorway. Indira paused, brows lifting.
“Do you know what connection he’s flying out through?”
Her expression softened—pity, yes, but something like respect too. “JFK, I think. But he left for the airport a while ago. If you want to catch him...” She hesitated. “You’ll have to move fast.”
Emma’s fingers shook as she pulled up the airport app, scrolling frantically.
San Diego International. Departures. JFK. Departs 12:05.
She checked the time. 10:47.
Her heart gave a single, violent kick.
She didn’t think.
She ran.
Chapter 44
Final call.
Emma reached the airport breathless, jumping out of the Uber before it had even fully stopped. It was déjà vu from her bookstore event—except this time, she was on her own.
The sliding doors to the terminal whooshed open, cool air rushing over her. Her whole body thrummed with the bone-deep certainty that she had to find him. That it couldn’t be meant to end like this.
She stopped dead in the middle of the hall, scanning the departure boards frantically. There—JFK. Gate 45.
Go to gate.
“Yeah, thanks, I’m on my freaking way!” Emma snapped at the screen, already dashing across the hall. The faintest spark of hope caught in her chest. Not too late. Not yet, at least.
She skidded to a stop at the airline’s service counter, breath caught in her throat. The attendant behind the desk smiled politely. If he noticed the panic vibrating off her, he hid it well.
“The JFK flight,” she panted. “Are there seats left?”
He frowned. “The twelve-five? I’m sorry, ma’am, but you won’t make it. Boarding starts any minute.”
“Fine!” Emma snapped. “Then get me anything departing from that terminal. And fast-lane access.”
His brows rose. “And what destination would you like to travel to?”
“Terminal freaking two.” Her hands flew to her head, stress boiling over. “I’m sorry. I just...I need to catch someone before they fly out.”
The man looked at her as if she should be in a straitjacket. “Have you tried their phone?”
Her temples throbbed as she stared at him. She imagined it—Darren’s voice on the line, cool and tired, hanging up before she could get the words out. Not seeing her there. Not knowing how far she was willing to go. And that was if he even picked up the call.
“No, that’s not . . . I need to see him. Please, I—”
