Chapter 23-Evelyn
I barely slept.
The night bled into morning, and when I finally opened my eyes, sunlight was already spilling weakly through the curtains. It didn’t make the room warmer—everything still felt cold.
Clara was on the couch beside me, her hair a mess, her face pale from worry. She’d shown up at dawn the moment she heard.
Paul’s car had been found. Engine still running. Empty.
I hadn’t cried since the call. Now, the silence between us pressed like a weight I couldn’t lift.
“Evie,” Clara said softly, handing me a cup of tea. “You need to drink something since you do not want to eat.”
I took it, even though my hands trembled. “I can’t stop thinking about what we said last night. What if that was the last thing he ever heard from me?”
Clara sighed and scooted closer. “He
