“Emma?” A distant voice called—muffled through the sound of my sniffling.
“Emma? Are you there?”
Sadness folded in close.
You should’ve stayed at work,they ridiculed.
Too late now,one laughed.You’ve just handed him everything he needs to wipe Elion—and all those precious little people—off the map.
Shame reared its ugly head, joining the crowd already clawing at my conscience.
“Ms.Sinclair?” Harold’s voice cut through the spiral.
I startled. “Yes?”
He looked at me through the rearview mirror, worry etched deep in the lines of his face.
“Your friend’s been trying to talk to you. I know you’re having a rough moment, but… she sounds worried.”
Then I felt the weight of it—the phone still in my hand, Candace’s worried voice blaring through the speaker. Her photo glowed on the screen, frozen in California sunlight, waiting for me to say something.
I pressed the phone to my ear. “Sorry.”
“Are you okay?” she asked, a trace of frustration threading through her concern. “I’ve been talking to you for five minutes.”
Guilt joined the chorus. “Yeah… I was just thinking.”
“About what?”
I exhaled, the tightness easing for the first time since dinner. “Everything.”
An equally deep sigh came through the line.
“Emma.” Candace’s tone shifted. “Be honest with me. Do you still have feelings for this guy?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted, slouching low in my seat.
“So that means yes,” she replied flatly.
“I said I don’t know,” I bit out.
“The fact that you didn’t say no means yes,” she insisted.
I pressed a palm to my forehead. “This is too much.”
“I know. But you don’t have to decide anything right now. Take the night, think things over.”
“Yeah,” I muttered.
“If you need me, I’m here, okay?”
“Okay.”
“I love you.”
“Love you, too.” My words were barely audible as the line went dead—and the voices rushed in to fill the quiet, their whispers threading through the hum of the tires and the city beyond the glass.
Chapter 13
