Without looking at either of them, I bolt out of the room, sprinting down the hall. When I know I’m away from prying eyes I lean against the wall and try to catch my breath.
What’s happening to me?
My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I welcome the distraction as I pull it out. It’s a New York number, so I answer.
“Hello?”
“Hi, may I speak to Zoe Jackson?” I don’t recognize his voice.
“This is she.”
“Hi, Zoe. I’m Tyler from Adler Architectural and Design. Do you have a few minutes?”
Am I having a brain aneurysm? Why would a design firm be calling me?
“Yes, of course.”
“We received your application for the new Madison Square Garden extension. Can we schedule a phone interview for next Tuesday at ten a.m.?”
What?
“S-sure,” I stammer.
“Wonderful. I’ll send you the details via email. Do you have any questions?”
“Yes, actually. Was my application ever pulled?”
“Uh, nope. Was it meant to be?” Tyler sounds confused, and I probably shouldn’t have asked that question, but I needed to know.
“No, no. I was just curious because I was worried I had messed up somewhere. Thank you.”
“Okay, great. I’ll be in touch.”
The line goes dead, but I continue holding the phone up to my ear, trying to make sense of the call.
Dominik never pulled my application like he promised.
Son of a bitch.
I made it to the first round of interviews.
Maybe Dominik knows me better than I thought. Maybe he’s always been here for me, holding my hand and walking alongside me when the road ahead seemed impossible or scary.
Maybe he’s always seen me, even when I couldn’t see myself.
23
ZOE
I’m sprinting through the hospital corridors, filled with an overwhelming desire to run as far away as possible. But there is no hiding place big enough to shield me from myself and every emotion floating freely inside me. It’s all too much. These last few hours have felt like an eternity, and the white walls of this place threaten to swallow me whole.
Panic rises in my throat as I recognize the same yellow wet floor sign I’ve passed four times already. Are there no exits in this place?
Deep breath in. Deep breath out.
Everything I’ve been avoiding, everything I thought I had under control is crashing down on me, and I don’t know how to deal with it. I don’t even know where to start cleaning up this mess.
Nothing makes sense anymore.
