I drag in a breath that feels like it shreds my throat on the way down.
I wipe my face with the sleeve of my hoodie.
It does nothing.
My hands are shaking so badly, I can barely get them to obey me.
I fumble for my bag, my fingers clumsy, and I yank it closer. I dig through it, not even sure what I’m looking for at first.
Then I find it.
My phone.
With shaking hands, I pull it out.
Chapter Eighteen
Nico
I pull up too fast, brake hard, and kill the engine in one motion.
Her voice is still in my head from the call—thin, wrecked, like she’d been holding her breath for hours and finally couldn’t anymore. Not the Erica from my office. Not the one with the straight back and the careful tone. Not even the one from the hotel room the night of the auction.
This one sounded like she was drowning and desperately needed a life jacket.
My first thought was that her father didn’t make it, but her words weren’t making sense. A call to the hospital on the way told me the surgery was a success, and he was recovering.
No, it isn’t that.
Erica just finally broke.
I get out and slam the door.
The street is quiet. Her house is dark except for a faint glow from inside. My feet hit the walkway and I’m already at the steps, already reaching for the handle.
I don’t knock. I try the door.
Unlocked.
My jaw tightens as I push it open and step inside.
“Erica,” I call, low.
I don’t see her at first, not with the angle of the entryway.
The air in here is stale and still. No TV. No music. No movement. Just the soft hum of a refrigerator somewhere and the faint, ugly sound of someone trying to breathe through crying.
I follow it.
She’s on the living room floor, knees pulled up, face buried in them, arms locked tight like she can keep herself from falling apart if she holds on hard enough.
Her shoulders shake. The sobs aren’t dramatic. They’re exhausted. Like her body is doing it whether she wants to or not.
I stop for a beat at the edge of the rug, looking at her there, and something in my chest goes hard and cold at the same time.
Then the floor creaks under my shoe.
Her head lifts.
