Her jaw clenched. When she heard him at the prison, she figured it was manipulation. But standing here, staring at those dark windows, made the question harder to ignore.
Why wasn’t he here?
Alex didn’t forget things. Not after ten years of building her case, not after every hearing and every appeal. He’d walked her through everything with maddening precision, including today’s release. Alex was the kind of man who arrived early to bad news just so it couldn’t ambush him. If he had missed today, something had interrupted him, sickness or injury…or he’d chosen not to be here.
So no, this wasn’t abandonment in the ordinary sense. This was a break in the pattern. A variable had moved, and Audrey needed to know whether it was him, the case, or her.
The smoke lit her lungs on fire, but she took another drag.
If he’d chosen not to be here, that meant one of two things: he was compromised, or he had seen something in her file, something buried deep enough that it scared him. The file was thicker than she remembered, filled with pages she had neverseen, with a handful of redacted lines and notes in unfamiliar handwriting. She could still picture the phrase stamped across one margin:“Unresolved anomalies, subject remains under observation.”She had never managed to read more. But if Alex had, what had he found in those pages that made him stay away?
She sighed, blowing more smoke out of her nose. She could chase theories later. Right now, she needed to know two things: where Alex had gone and whether or not he’d disappeared because of her.
All the thoughts of betrayal made her belly ache, but now that they existed, they wouldn’t leave. Her hands fumbled to light another cigarette as she attempted to stay calm.
A quick murmur, too fast to hold with that same lilting accent, interrupted her own.
Where did you run off to, love?
Please not now.
Her own voice lifted above the others, but she forced it down. The last thing she needed was for the murderer to hear her panicked thoughts. She steadied herself, forcing the world back into place. The killer was on the hunt, but Audrey felt off-balance. Cold and alone, she wasn’t ready to face him like she wanted.
Across the street, a light flicked on, then off again.
Ask yourself why.
Those words were no longer a taunt; they felt like another fact she didn’t want to examine too closely.
The doorman walked outside, sympathy spread thin across his face. “You can’t stay here all night.”
Defeated, Audrey’s shoulders slumped. But she nodded, finishing her cigarette before lifting herself off the wall. She shoved her hands in her pockets and started off down the street, with no particular direction in mind.
For years, Alex had been the only fixed point in her life. Now, he was gone. Her shields slipped with the realization, and the noise started building again. At first, it was pressure behind her eyes, but then it layered into fragments of thought piercing her own.
Did I lock the door?
She’s late…
I shouldn’t be here…
They overlapped, stacking and crushing inward until the noise became a force closing in. Audrey put her tongue to the roof of her mouth, centering herself in her sister’s voice. Cary would tell her to stay focused. Stay calm.
She reached, barely, and touched the nearest thread. It was a mistake. The moment she found it, the aura opened, and emotions nearly consumed her. She recoiled instantly.
Her power wasn’t mind-reading the way people imagined it, with clean phrases and neat little secrets delivered into her hands. Sometimes, with concentration, she managed to nudge or follow a single thread back to its source, glimpsing a fractured image or color that belonged to someone else. Most of the time, though, it was messier—emotions hit hardest, overwhelming and disorienting, and they bled into her so completely that they became indistinguishable from her own. Fear from a stranger still seemed like her fear. Grief still hollowed her sides. When too many people crowded close together, it stopped mattering where they ended and she began. Her mother had always called it “poor boundaries,” as if Audrey were simply a difficult child who refused to shut the door in her own mind.
Build the wall.
Her hand shot out to steady herself against the brick. Audrey straightened before anyone saw the way her knees nearly buckled, but as usual, no one reacted.
She walked aimlessly. Forty dollars wouldn’t buy safety, and the city she’d grown up in had changed while she was gone. New buildings had sprouted up, making familiar areas look alien and stark. They even blocked the view of her favorite bridge.
Prison had been a cage, but it had been legible. There were rules there and a structure she understood. Out here, freedom was a threat. Every reflection looked like surveillance, and every set of footsteps behind her sounded like pursuit.
By the time darkness devoured the last of the gray, she was still walking.
Neighborhoods grew more sinister as she passed through them. The lights darkened, and strangers camped out in doorways. Finally, she dropped into the shadow of a deteriorating wall and wrapped her arms around her knees. Her feet ached. Her injured palm had dried and stuck to the inside of her sleeve. Exhaustion dragged at her, although fear kept her alert.
