Present Day — Lila’s Apartment
Lila packed the same way she lived now—quietly, methodically, and with the emotional enthusiasm of a houseplant. A small suitcase lay open on her bed, half‑filled with neatly folded clothes. She didn’t own much anymore. She didn’t need much. Minimalism: not a lifestyle, just trauma with good PR.
London would be different. London meant Maya. London meant breathing room… allegedly.
Her phone buzzed.
Maya: Tell me you’re awake. Tell me you’re packing. Tell me you didn’t forget your passport again.
Lila rolled her eyes so hard she nearly saw her brain. A small smile tugged at her lips anyway.
Lila: I’m awake. I’m packing. And the passport is in my hand.
Another buzz.
Maya: GOOD. Because if you miss this flight, I’m flying to you and dragging you here myself.
Lila placed her passport gently on top of her clothes, fingers lingering longer than necessary. Travel still made her chest tighten. Airports. Crowds. Unknown faces. Basically a buffet of anxiety triggers.
But Maya had insisted. And Lila… well, she needed this. Probably. Maybe. Hopefully.
Her phone buzzed again.
Maya: I’m so excited I could scream. Three whole weeks with you. I’m kidnapping you from your life. No arguments.
Lila: You can’t kidnap someone who’s already coming willingly.
Maya: Watch me.
Lila snorted. A laugh. An actual laugh. It felt strange. Good. Foreign. Possibly illegal.
She zipped her suitcase and took a slow breath. London. A new city. A break from the shadows she kept outrunning like a discount action hero.
She didn’t notice the way the air shifted outside her window. Didn’t see the dark car parked across the street. Didn’t feel the eyes that had been following her for weeks.
Because of course she didn’t. Why would life ever give her a heads‑up?
Her phone buzzed again.
Maya: I can’t wait to hug you. I’ve missed you.
Lila typed back slowly.
Lila: I’ve missed you too.
She didn’t know that someone else had missed her longer. Three years longer.
And he was closer than she realized.