Imogene Scott
I stand frozen in the parking lot, the reality that Damien is gone hitting me. My eyes scan the crowd again, but there’s nothing. No sign of him anywhere. I’ve never felt this kind of desperation before—this gnawing, aching feeling that I’ve lost everything. And it’s my fault.
My hands tremble as I wipe my face, clearing away the tears. I look around, the sight of people laughing and chatting as they walk to their cars.
I spot an empty car near the edge of the lot, and before I know what I’m doing, I’m climbing onto the hood. The cold metal under my feet feels like the only solid thing in my life right now. I stand there, breathing hard, and people start to look up, curious about the crazy lady that’s standing on a car.
They stop walking, turning to see what I’m doing.
