PENELOPE
New York looked exactly the same. It didn’t care that I left. It didn’t blink when I came back.
The sky was cloudy, and the air carried that late-winter, early-spring chill that made you wrap your arms tighter around yourself—even if you weren’t cold. Maybe especially if you weren’t cold.
Alfred stood by the car at the terminal, arms crossed, dressed in that same black coat he wore with unbothered elegance. Jess was in the passenger seat, waving like a madwoman, she looked cute—sort of.
I smiled, as fake and bright as I could manage. “Hey, you two.”
Jess hugged me the second I reached the car, as she got out excitedly, whispering, “You look like you slept through the apocalypse.”
“I probably did.” I snorted.
She pulled back and searched my face for something. I didn’t let h
