Swallowing what feels like shards of glass tearing at my throat, I force myself to step deeper into the bookstore. My legs are like slime, ready to give way at any moment as chaos threatens to enrapture me. My hands are clammy, pulse pounding in my ears, and each raspy breath is a struggle for survival. I push on, if only because Everlee is there. Finding her has been our goal since we found out she was alive.
Grey’s touch slips away from me, allowing me to face this alone. He understands I need to approach Everlee by myself, but despite not being beside me, I feel his support through his burning gaze in my back, offering the courage I need. He’s always been my biggest supporter, helping me find myself, grounding me when things go dark in my mind, and supporting the woman I am deep down.
There are only a few meters separating me and Everlee, and it’s impossible to swallow; the glass shards will destroy me entirely, cut me up from the inside. Rows of bookshelves line my side in an aisle that opens up to a spacious area with chairs and an auditorium where she sits.
It’s now or never.
The building, old and worn, groans beneath me—the floorboards creak like a rusty gate that has never been oiled. The sound seems to echo through the bookstore, and I see Everlee’s shoulders stiffen before she quickly catches herself, relaxing again. Her eyes shift toward the noise, a smile playing on her lip-glossed lips as she likely expects another fan before wrapping up the event.
It’s in that moment our eyes clash together; two storms colliding into one, brewing something powerful and uncontrollable.
Instantly, all the missing pieces of my soul fall into its rightful place. We stare at each other, and the pen in her hand drops to the floor with a loud clatter, the sound amplified by the blood rushing in my ears.
Her face drains of color, her mouth falling open in shock.
Time seems to stretch forever as we stand there, locked in each other’s gaze, disbelief coating my tongue. Even now, I struggle to believe she’s here—a living, breathing human who actually exists and is not just a figment of my tortured mind.
She abruptly stands, the chair scraping loudly against thefloor, sending a shiver through me. As she steps closer, her eyes take me in. I know what she sees—a dirty woman with chestnut brown hair hanging in unkempt tufts, shorter than when she last saw me with the once navy-blue tips finally gone, scars thick around my bare wrists where my jacket is pushed up to my forearms. No makeup, unlike her. While I look like the homeless person I’ve become, she radiates like a goddess of happiness.
But not now—now, she stares at me as if she’s seen a ghost.
It’s not until then that I notice the man who observed me earlier has walked up to her, standing slightly to the side with eyes intently roving over her—keeping a close eye. Up close, I see that he’s clad in a dark suit fitting his body well, arms pushed up to reveal a snake tattoo slithering around flowers and its leaves on the stem, covering most of his arm.
Everlee takes a hesitant step toward me, and I’m torn between watching her and the man behind her. His expression is a mix of concern and guarded distance, with an aura of unapproachability.
My world feels like it’s falling apart when she takes another step closer, eyes glazing over. My chest tightens painfully, my mind trying to make sense of what’s even happening.
Behind me, I feel Grey’s heavy gaze, guiding and guarding me toward this unknown future. A moment of silence passes before both me and Everlee run toward each other. If this is a lucid dream, I don’t ever want to wake up, not when she flings her arms around me in a tight embrace, her warmth enveloping my fragile, cold body.
Tears brim at the corner of my eyes, my chest tearing open at having her in my arms.She’s not dead.
Her sweet flowery scent fills my nostrils as she hugs me even closer, her grip not loosening for even a second. She’s trembling, sniffling, mirroring my own emotions as we both cling to each other—as if letting go will make the other one disappear into thewind.
My best friend.
Tears trickle down my cheeks, despite my futile attempts at stopping them.
“Are you real?” she almost stutters into my hair, and I hear her voice breaking.
“I’m real,” I say in a quivering voice, my nose stinging from crying, my tears soaking her hair and neck.
She meets my eyes—and my god, I’ve missed my best friend’s eyes. I never thought I would see her again. A smile splits her lips, causing me to smile too. I cannot help the laugh that escapes me, a feeling of disbelief and relief.
She’s truly here.
“How? What?” she asks, her eyebrows furrowed.
I shake my head, a cloud of anxiety washing over me. “Can I tell you later?”
Her eyes shift to Grey, who stands at the side of the room, before she looks back at me, nodding. I can see the unspoken questions in her eyes.
Both Grey and I are disheveled, far from the composed presence that she is, yet she doesn’t seem repulsed by our appearances.
“Of course,” she replies, her tone softer now.
The words catch in my throat. “I hate to ask a favor, but I’ve gotten into some trouble,” I force out, hating the admission.
She levels a sharp glance at Grey. “Is it him?”
