While clearing out the old apartment, Cole found a white shoebox on a high shelf. Inside were a pair of nude heels, seven centimeters, the right heel worn down at an angle.
He remembered those shoes. She'd never been comfortable in them, but she wore them to match him. She twisted her ankle often. He used to get impatient with how slowly she walked and stride ahead without waiting.
He put the shoebox on the passenger seat and drove to her building in the old neighborhood. He sat in the car. A few minutes later, Mia came out the front door in canvas sneakers, walking fast, the man with the camera beside her.
They moved at the same pace, side by side. Mia was laughing, head tilted back, mouth wide open.
Cole's hands tightened on the steering wheel.
He had once told her not to laugh like
