Instead, I see a black box.
Small. Unmarked. No postage. No label. No return address.
I freeze.
No one knows I live here.
My head snaps left, then right. The hallway is empty. Dead quiet. My stomach knots.
I bring the package inside like it might explode.
I sit across the room from it, staring like it’s a curse waiting to unfold. I don’t touch it. I don’t blink. I wonder if it’s a warning. A threat. A promise. I wonder if he found me—or if I ever really got away.
It takes me three hours to open it.
Inside is a glass vial.
Filled with ash.
A note, folded once.
I burned it all. For you. For me. No empire is worth losing a single piece of you.
I drop to the floor. Just drop.
The sobs come hard and ugly. The kind that make you gag. The kind that steal sound from the air. The kind that feel like confession.
He meant it. He really did.
He chose me, but I’m still learning how to choose myself.
I stay crumpled on the floor for what feels like hours. The box sits beside me, open and empty, like it bled all its meaning into my chest and left me to deal with the wreckage. The ash clings to the inside of the vial—stubborn, and a gray residue that won’t let go.
Just like him.
I think about texting Ella. About telling her everything. About asking if she remembers that night—the boy who lied, the tears, and the pain.
I told her then love shouldn’t make you feel small, and here I am, a ghost in my own skin.
I turn off my phone without sending anything.
He chose me. But I will not run back.
No matter what he burned. No matter what he saved.
If he wants to find me again, he’ll have to find the version of me that no longer needs saving.
I don’t even know who that is yet but I’ll design her from scratch.
I don’t know what comes next. But for once—it will be mine.
Chapter 59
What Remains
Asher
It takes me a week to find her.
