Jessica told herself she would let it go.
She told herself the email meant nothing. That life wasn’t some cruel loop trying to pull her back into the orbit she’d barely escaped from.
All weekend, she avoided her laptop. She cleaned her apartment, changed her sheets, reorganized the fridge, anything to outrun the thought that she was being drawn back to Alex again. She told herself she can connect with other organization.
But by Sunday night, she couldn’t stop thinking about the children in Sagada, their laughter, their bare feet splashing through the mud, their notebooks held like fragile treasures.
By Monday morning, she was back in the Echelon office.
The bullpen buzzed with chatter, the smell of burnt coffee and ambition filling the air. Jessica sat at her desk, staring at her half
