Chapter 2

I glared at the empty passenger seat, the leather looking cold and unforgiving under the dim light.

That was my territory. Someone else had left their mark here.

It was so obvious and so shameless. They didn't even bother to fix it.

I gripped the steering wheel so hard my knuckles turned white.

My chest felt weighed down by a freezing numbness, like something cold and heavy was crushing the air out of me.

The perfume in the car was so thick that it felt like a suffocating monster, pressing in on me from every direction.

I shoved the car door open and rushed out, grabbing the icy metal for support as I dry-heaved. Nothing came up. Tears spilled out without warning, hitting the concrete and disappearing in a blink.

I stood there in the parking garage, not even sure how long I'd been out here, until the cold finally cut through my down jacket and seeped into my bones.

I wiped my face and got back into the car.

This time, I went over the whole car inch by inch, slow and deliberate, searching for any clue.

Under the passenger seat, I spotted a flash of silver.

I dug it out with my fingernail, a dainty diamond stud, flashy and bold.

It was definitely not mine. I didn't do that style.

In the center console, I noticed a tissue sticking out.

I pulled it free, and there was a faint rose-red lipstick stain, the same color as the lipstick on the glass earlier.

On the edge, in tiny cursive, was a single letter "C."

It wasn't Brian's name. It was her mark.

In the secret compartment of the armrest, my fingers brushed against something small and solid.

It was a torn-open aluminum foil wrapper, empty, of course.

Finally, I found my phone wedged in the gap beside the driver's seat.

Wait, I could've sworn I left this charging on my nightstand last night. So how did it end up here?

I turned on the screen, and the lock screen was a photo of Brian and me together.

But on the home screen, there was some flashy pink social app I'd never seen before, screaming for attention.

I didn't bother opening it. I shoved everything—the earring, the tissue, that glaring little wrapper, and my phone—into my coat pocket.

Then, I slowly set the passenger seat back to my favorite spot, the one that always fit me perfectly.

After that, I leaned back in the seat and closed my eyes.

The motion-sensing lights in the garage went out, and darkness swallowed me whole.

It was dead silent, just my own breathing, slowly calming down, and the icy rush of blood pounding in my ears.

The fire in my chest was gone, snuffed out for good.

All that was left was a pile of ashes, and deep within me, a cold shard of ice slowly began to form.

I didn't go home.

I drove aimlessly through the city, window cracked just enough for the icy wind to rush in, chasing away the suffocating perfume and cooling my feverish forehead.

The streets were glowing with festive lights, people hurrying home, their faces eager for warmth and family. But me? I was just wandering, lost, like a ghost with nowhere to belong.

In the end, I pulled over by the river.

The winter river moved slowly and heavily, mirroring the dazzling lights across the bank, a cold, brilliant emptiness.

I sat in the car, watching the diamond stud catch the light in my palm, like a frozen, mocking tear.

My phone rang. On the screen, Brian's name flashed, along with the photo I'd set for him; he was grinning, all sunshine.

I stared at it for a long time, and only when the ringtone was about to fade did I finally swipe to answer.

"Hey, Emmy, where did you go?" Brian's voice came through, gentle as always, but with a hint of tension I could barely catch.