Chapter 3

“Final boarding call for passenger Vanessa Reed on Flight ZR877 to Lindrow, Esdarland. Please report to Gate C18 immediately.”

The announcement echoed faintly through Ethan’s phone.

I sat beside my suitcase in the departure lounge for our Sundale flight with two boarding passes in my hand. Our flight left in forty minutes. Ethan had just called to say a minor collision on the ring expressway had trapped him with an uncooperative driver.

Wind rushed over his microphone. Horns blared in the background.

“Go without me,” he said. “I’ll take the first flight tomorrow and meet you at the hotel. Okay?”

In the past, I would have asked whether he was hurt. I would have offered to cancel everything.

Instead, I listened to the airport announcement behind his manufactured road noise.

“Okay,” I said. “Be safe. I’ll wait for you.”

I ended the call, picked up my suitcase, and followed the signs to the international C concourse. Gate C18 was boarding Flight ZR877 to Lindrow, Esdarland. Ten minutes later, I found it.

Ethan was not injured. He stood beside the priority-security entrance, carefully winding a pink cashmere scarf around Vanessa’s neck.

She looked up at him. He tucked one loose end beneath her collar. Then she hugged him, and he held her as if neither of them wanted to be the first to let go.

I stopped outside the nearby airline lounge, hidden by a partition. Owen Price, one of Ethan’s friends, handed him a coffee.

“You ditched Chloe’s graduation trip to see Vanessa off,” Owen said. “You know you’re playing with fire, right?”

Ethan ignored the cup. His attention stayed on Vanessa as she moved toward security, looking back every few steps.

“Chloe’s sensible,” he said. “She’s not like Vanessa. Vanessa can barely find the right gate without help. Chloe can handle one day alone. I’ll fly to Sundale tomorrow and buy her that limited-edition bag she likes. She’ll be fine.”

Sensible.

The word had followed me through our relationship like a sentence.

Three years earlier, I had gone to the hospital alone with a fever high enough to need an IV. Ethan had been preparing for a competition. He told me to take care of myself and called the next morning.

Vanessa misread a gate number, and he abandoned a promise, invented a car accident, and held her like she was leaving for war.

I took out my phone and photographed them through the glass.

Then I removed the itinerary from its envelope. I tore off the heavy front cover and slipped it into my suitcase. The pages and both tickets went into the trash.

“I hope you two make each other happy,” I whispered.

I called my best friend as I walked toward the exit.

“Lily, I need a moving company.”

She heard something in my voice and didn’t ask me to explain. “Send me the address. I’m on it.”