That same night after the show, Alana received a text message from an unknown number.
Only two words:
Unknown number: Congratulations, Alana.
She stared at the number for two seconds, then calmly deleted and blocked it.
No hesitation, no sadness, just like brushing a speck of dust off a table.
Right then, Linden called.
"I'm outside the venue," his voice was low and warm, smiling. "I couldn't find any flowers, so I only brought a cup of hot cocoa. Will you come out and have some?"
Alana paused, then smiled. She put on her coat and walked out the back door.
Linden was leaning against his car, his dark coat lifted gently by the night breeze in Milan.
Sure enough, he was holding only a paper cup from a convenience store, steam rising from the top.
"Aren't you going to the
