Chapter 4

The morning sky over Lake Michigan was a dull, bruised slate.

I zipped my two suitcases, wheeled them to the front door, and put on my wool coat.

I took one final look around the living room.

The bookshelf we assembled on a rainy Sunday. The coffee table where we had takeout Thai.

None of it belonged to me anymore.

I picked up the printed Drake confirmation from the desk and walked into the kitchen.

I placed the paper flat on the quartz island, directly beside the unopened eight-dollar pumpkin pie.

Then, I took my apartment key off my keyring and set it firmly on top of the paper, pinning down the names Evan Hart & Maya Bell.

I picked up my bags, stepped out into the hallway, and pulled the door shut until the heavy deadbolt clicked into place.

The elevator took too long to reach the lobby.

I stood inside it with both suitcases at my feet and watched the floor numbers light up one by one. When the doors opened, I did not look back toward 4B.

Outside, the air smelled like wet pavement and exhaust. I ordered a rideshare using my own card, then waited under the awning with my hands wrapped around the handles of my luggage.

The driver loaded both suitcases into the trunk without asking questions. When he asked which terminal, I said, "United."

As the building disappeared behind us, I opened the location-sharing app on my phone. Evan's name was still listed under People Who Can See You.

I removed him.

At the airport curb, I tipped the driver, pulled my bags onto the sidewalk, and joined the line at the security checkpoint.

A toddler cried somewhere behind me. A man in front of me argued with the agent about a bottle of cologne. Nobody looked at me twice.

After I cleared security, I sent Natalie one text.

Through security. Flight leaves at 9:10.

Her reply came before I reached the concourse.

Text us when you land. That's all you need to do today.

I put the phone away and followed the signs for B12.

O'Hare International Airport was crowded with holiday travelers.

I had already cleared TSA security and was sitting at Gate B12 with a black coffee in my hand.

My phone buzzed on the armrest.

The screen lit up: Evan.

I watched the name pulse on the glass for three rings, then pressed the side button to silence the call.

I placed the phone face down in my handbag.

At 8:03, Evan's key turned in the apartment lock.