Then the words.
Lorenzo, I’m leaving. I should’ve said goodbye in person, but that would’ve made this harder.
My stomach drops.
This summer was exactly what it needed to be—an escape. A moment out of time. Something sweet before life becomes real again. But that’s all it can ever be. A summer. A moment. Not a life.
My vision blurs.
I have my world, and you have yours. Please don’t come after me. Please don’t wait for me. We were never meant to last.
The last line cuts cleanest.
Thank you for the memories.
—V
It doesn’t say she loved me. It doesn’t say she’ll miss me. It doesn’t say one thing that could anchor me.
It’s tidy.
And most importantly . . .
Final.
This can’t really be from her? Can it?
“No. This is bullshit. Victoria would never—”
“She did, Enzo.”
It feels like I’ve been stabbed in the gut.
“I’m sorry,” my mother says, but I hardly hear her. Because all at once, there’s a knock on the front door of the estate.
A heavy one.
We both freeze.
It isn’t polite or rhythmic. It’s deliberate. The kind of knock that means business. The violent kind.
My mother drops the knife, the clang echoing through the kitchen.
She hurries down the hall to peer out the nearest window. The rest of the staff follow.
Hell, I follow.
From the window, I see the SUV. Black. Expensive. Tinted windows.
Three men get out.
One stands by the car. One heads toward the front door. The third is older. He looks mean with cold eyes.
He looks like me.
My mother does something I never expected and walks to the door and opens it. Her face drains of color.
The older man smiles faintly at her. “It’s time, Angela.”
