“I’ll stay close.”
Nick hesitates. His hand moves to his radio.
“I should check with—”
“Nick,” I say firmly, “I’m going for a walk. You can follow me if you want. But I’m going.”
He stares at me for a long moment, then nods slowly.
“Stay within sight of the house,” he says. “Please.”
I don’t answer.
I just walk past him. Down the hallway. Through the living room. Out the front door.
The cold air hits me like a slap. Sharp. Clean.
I breathe it in. Let it fill my lungs.
God, I needed this.
I pull a cigarette from my pocket, light it, and take a long drag.
The nicotine hits my bloodstream.
Calms the edge.
Just a little.
I start walking.
There’s a trail that leads away from the house and into the woods. I follow it.
The trees are thick here. Tall. The moonlight barely filters through.
But I don’t care.
I just need to move. To think. To not feel like I’m suffocating.
I walk for ten minutes.
Maybe fifteen.
The trail curves, opens up, and suddenly I’m standing on a road. Narrow. Paved. Empty.
I stop and look around.
I didn’t realize I’d walked this far.
I should turn back.
But I don’t.
Instead, I pull out my phone.
Not my phone.
A phone.
