A security desk sits near the entrance.
Behind it, a guard scrolls lazily through his phone.
Fuck.
There’s no way around him.
I lower my head and move fast, my hair falling forward like a curtain as I pass. I give a quick, careless wave just as he glances up, my heart hammering so violently I’m certain he can hear it.
“Have a good day, miss,” he says, distracted and dismissive.
I don’t stop walking.
The moment I step outside, the chill hits me hard. The morning sun no longer feels warm or forgiving, it’s sharp, exposing, nothing like the golden safety it was in his bedroom. I put distance between myself and the entrance, slipping behind a parked delivery truck and pressing myself into its shadow.
Hidden.
I call Tate back. She answers on the first ring.
“Emmy, I’m five minutes away.”
“Okay,” I whisper, scanning the street. “I’m behind the delivery truck near the front entrance.”
“Stay there,” she says gently, then pauses. “Stay on the phone with me while you wait.”
I nod even though she can’t see me, gripping the phone as I lean against the truck, my breaths shallow and uneven. I focus on not breaking apart, not yet. I can’t afford to fall apart yet.
Minutes drag by like hours.
Tate pulls up, and I don’t look back. I can’t. If I do, I know I’ll freeze. I round the car and climb in quickly, slamming the door shut like it might seal the past behind me.
Tate turns towards me immediately; worry etched deep into her face. “Where can I take you?”
The question cracks something open inside me. Tears blur my vision as I inhale shakily. “I can’t go home,” I whisper. “Can you… can you take me to yours?”
She nods without hesitation and pulls away from the curb.
As the building disappears behind us, I finally allow myself one glance back.
Something inside my chest splinters.
It aches. Deep and sharp and unbearable.
Because even now, terrified, shaken, running, I feel it.
I already miss him.
And that thought is more dangerous than anything I left behind.
So, I bury it. I push it down as far as it will go, wrapping myself in denial like armour, knowing with sick certainty that no matter how far I run…
Khai’s shadow will find me again.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Khai
When I wake, it feels as though I’ve been asleep for years, buried under something heavy and dreamless. I can’t remember the last time rest claimed me this completely. My body is loose, unguarded, steeped in a rare, dangerous calm.
