, heading toward her current, rundown apartment building in Queens. The driver glanced at her in the rearview mirror. "Rough night, miss?" Chloe

nst the wall-it all dragged up memories she had buried. She whispered to herself, "Get it together, Chloe. He's not worth it." But as the cold air hit her face, a far more danger

siness dealings-things he would never want Poppy, or any rival, to see-that she had left hidden in a false-bottom drawer at her previous resi

iver asked, "Everything okay back there?" Chloe did

urgently. She impulsively told the driver to reroute to the Upper East Side. "Change of pl

credit card and stepped out into the biting wind coming off the East River. The driver called after her, "You sur

warmly and let her pass without question. "Good evening, Miss Hayes," he said. "Haven't seen you in a while."

l lock override-the panel displayed a small brass keyhole. She still had the old, heavy brass key Julian had gifted her years ago, a custom-forged, uncopyable antique key he

ough that staleness was the distinct, cloying aroma of an expensive floral perfume. Someone had been here recently. In the corner of the living room, boxes of their old photos

he hallway sconces. The dim li

t to the nightstand, pulling the bottom drawer open to check for her journal. A profound sense

nd of the front door unlocking ec

terror that she was trespassing in a place she hadn't lived in for years. If Julian fou

ipped into the massive, cedar-lined walk-in closet. She pulled the louvered closet door shut, leaving on

rookedly. He had clearly taken a company car straight here from the restaurant, bypassing

hands, his shoulders shaking slightly. He looked utterly defeated, stripped of all his c

corridor where she had defensively assumed he was calling for his new girlfriend, the acoustics here offered no room for doubt. He

hock. Her mind raced, struggling to process the sound of her name spoken with such despera

n minutes, his deep, even breathing signaled that the alcohol had pulled him in

amped, but she didn't dare move until she was sure he was complete

iptoe, her eyes fixed nervously on his sleeping form. His ch

ble near the entrance. Sitting perfectly centered on the glass surface was a br

nt, looping handwriting: "Julian, l

usion of him calling her name was instantly, violently shattered by the reality of his inf

t Poppy to this bed. The very bed they used to sha

d, desperate to flee the apartment as fast as pos

he phone landed silently on the thick, plush Persian rug near the doorway. It was complet

, slipping out and quietly pulling the heavy front door shut

call a cab, and realized with creeping horror that her phone was gone. "No, no, no," she said, patting all her pockets. "I left it. I left my phone in