The elevator doors close too slowly.
I feel Ethan behind me even though he isn’t touching me. His presence lingers like heat after a fire has been put out badly. The mirrored walls show my reflection from too many angles. A woman in a gown. A woman who smiled for cameras. A woman who is about to fall apart quietly if no one interrupts her.
My phone vibrates in my hand.
I don’t check it.
If I do, I might turn around.
When the doors finally open, the night air outside feels brutal. Cold. Sharp. Real. It slices through the illusion the gala wrapped around us and reminds me that nothing glamorous survives daylight.
Mara’s car pulls up. She takes one look at my face and unlocks the door without a word.
I sink into the seat like my bones are tired of holding me up.
“Did he say anything?”
