Roman's POV.
The coffee machine made a sharp, grinding noise that felt like a drill against my skull. I didn’t sleep. I just sat at the marble island and watched the black liquid drip into a cup. My phone was face down on the counter. Every time the screen lit up with a notification, my stomach did a slow, sick roll.
The second passenger.
The words were burned into the back of my eyelids. I looked at my hands. They were steady, but I felt like I was vibrating under my skin. Ten years of hating a ghost, and now the ghost had a shadow.
I heard the bedroom door creak open.
Sloane appeared at the end of the hall. She was still wearing my black hoodie, the sleeves pushed up to her elbows. She looked fragile, her face pale and her eyes heavy from the painkillers. She was leaning against th
