I packed my bag with shaking hands.
The borrowed clothes folded neatly. My phone charger. The few toiletries I’d accumulated. Everything going back into the same suitcase I’d arrived with, like these past few days had never happened. Like I could just erase them and move on.
Except I couldn’t erase Noah’s laughter. Or the snowman we’d built together. Or the way Adrian had looked at me last night by the fire, soft and almost happy.
Or the way he’d looked at me an hour ago, broken and terrified and pushing me away with both hands.
I sat on the edge of the bed, staring at my closed suitcase, and tried to figure out how everything had gone so wrong so fast.
A soft knock on the door made me look up.
“Come in,” I said, expecting to see staff coming to collect my things.
The door opened sl
