Page 103 of The Song We Lost

Empty.

I zone out at a red light.

Staring at the glow.

Thinking of Bailey’s smile. Her laugh. The way she used to look at me like I was worth loving even when I wasn’t.

Is she home?

Is she back in Canada?

Is she with Noah?

What if she’s home and I don’t know?

What if she is waiting for me…

The light changes.

I don’t move.

Someone honks behind me.

I blink, startled, and my foot slams the gas too hard.

The car jerks forward.

My heart is pounding.

I shouldn’t be driving.

I know that.

Somewhere deep down, past the haze, past the denial, I know…

Red and blue lights flash in my rearview mirror.

For a second, my brain doesn’t process it.

Then my stomach drops.

No.

No, not now.

I pull over automatically.

The officer approaches.

Flashlight in my window.

“Evening,” he says.

Evening.

I squint at him, trying to focus. My mouth is dry again.

“License and registration.”