Sheila’s POV
The rain hasn’t stopped. It’s heavier now, steady and cold, hitting the glass in quick bursts. I stand by the window, watching it trail down in lines, my reflection faint against the glass tired eyes, messy hair, and a mouth that still feels dry from everything that happened earlier.
My phone is still in my hand. His message is on the screen. Short. Sharp. Come outside.
For a second, I think about ignoring it. Pretending I never saw it. But my fingers are already moving, already clutching the phone tighter like it’s going to stop my heart from racing.
The apartment feels too small. Too quiet. I grab my jacket, slipping it on even though it won’t help much. The air outside is thick, the rain cool against my skin as soon as I step out. It soaks through fast, darkening the fa
