Chapter 10

On the afternoon of the third day, I collected Bruce's ashes and grabbed a bottle of wine on the way home.

I told Chris, "I'm really hurting inside. I want a drink. Just a little, will you drink with me?"

Chris hesitated for a moment, but eventually gave in. He was afraid I'd keep everything bottled up and fall apart.

He always trusted me. For someone so cautious, he didn't even notice the bottle had already been opened.

He knew I was always a lightweight when it came to drinking.

Whenever I poured him a drink, Chris would knock it back.

But the moment I took a sip, he'd rush to say, "Hey, don't drink too much."

With one bottle between us, he kept refilling his glass, one after another.

Guess he thought if he drank more, I'd have less and let him have it.

But after a few drinks, his eyes were already glazed over.

When I tried to pour him another, he hurriedly covered his glass. "No. I still have to look after you."

I quietly raised my glass and tapped it against his.

I said, "I hope Chris stays safe and has smooth sailing, year after year."

He was always extra sensitive whenever he heard stuff like that.

Even though he was pretty out of it, he still managed to look up at me, eyes hazy, and slurred. "And I hope Zoe stays safe and has smooth sailing, year after year."

I let out a bitter laugh. "I doubt it."

Chris furrowed his brow, looking extra serious. "You will. Trust me, you will."

He passed out from the booze.

I took out the frame I'd always kept by my side, the one I treasured most.

Inside was a family photo taken when I was twelve, me, Bruce, and our parents, all together.

Back then, our parents were alive, and Bruce was still here.

The Turner family of Northgate was still thriving back then.

No matter how hard life got for Bruce and me, we never had the heart to let go of that frame.

There was a jade pendant set in the frame.

My dad had bought it at an auction for 300,000 dollars.

They said it could keep people safe.

After our parents passed away, Bruce was left to raise me all by himself.

He was always fixated on the word "safety." But I didn't care about being safe anymore.

I took the family photo out of the frame.

I left Chris the frame and what little money I had.

I left him a quick note, asking him to sell the frame.

I also asked him to bury Bruce's ashes with mine, use up the rest of the money, and help me and Bruce catch a few more glimpses of this world.

Goodbyes had never really been my thing.

When my parents passed and when Bruce was gone, I never got the chance to say goodbye.

So I guess there was nothing left to say.

After turning it over in my mind again and again, in the end, I added the same words I'd said before: [I hope everything goes smoothly for Chris, year after year.]

I left home and called Nathan.

At this point, he probably wouldn't want to see me anymore.

But you knew how crazy people were. Their minds didn't work like everyone else's.

He picked up.

I said, "Nathan, let's meet up and talk."

The last time I called him was when I was twelve.

Thinking about it made my skin crawl.

There was a brief silence on the other end.

Then, his voice came through, excited and a little unhinged. "Okay. Zoe, I'm at home in Northgate. I've learned a new piano piece. I'm waiting for you."

I hung up and flagged down a cab on the street.

I was on my way to the airport, planning to catch a flight to Northgate.

Just as I was about to get in, a voice I knew all too well, full of panic, shouted from behind me, "Don't go!"

It was Leon.

These past few days, he'd been hanging around outside Chris's apartment like a ghost, barely ever leaving.

I didn't have a place of my own in Southport, so I was crashing at Chris's little apartment.

After handling Bruce's funeral, I crashed at Chris's place for a while.

I turned around and glanced back.

My mind was foggy, everything out of focus, and I couldn't even see Leon's face clearly.

All I could make out was his silhouette, stumbling and desperate, lunging toward me in panic. "Zoey. Don't go, please."

He had called me that ever since we were little.

For so many years, I actually liked hearing him call me that.

It made me feel safe, and sometimes even a little happy inside.

But whenever I heard those two words, all I could think about was that night three years ago.

Nathan held me close, and for the first time, he called me "Zoe," imitating Leon's voice.

It made my skin crawl more than anything else in this world.

Leon closed in on me, frantic and desperate.

Without another glance, I turned away and climbed into the cab.

Behind me, Leon called out, his voice trembling with panic and despair, "Zoe, please, don't do this. You still have..."

What did I even have left?

He couldn't finish his sentence. He finally understood that there was nothing left for me. Nothing at all.

I clenched the photo in my pocket, fingers wrapped tight around the fruit knife I'd brought along.

I was headed straight to where Nathan was waiting.

Leon, wild and desperate, disappeared in the rearview mirror as he chased after me.