Chapter 38
Alexander
Still in Evelyn's Apartment
I slam the phone down so hard the counter trembles.
The apartment is too quiet. Too untouched. It feels staged—like someone pressed pause on her life and walked away with the remote.
Her scent still lingers—vanilla, lavender, morning warmth—but she is nowhere. The printed resignation letter sits on the counter like a threat. A lie. And I lose it.
The mug she left in the sink—my mug now, because she used it every morning—shatters against the wall when I throw it. It doesn’t help. My fists crash into the countertop until my knuckles split. The pain is nothing. A whisper. A shadow. The roar inside me drowns it all out.
She didn’t leave. Someone took her. Because of me. Because Grace wanted to hurt me, the only way that would matter. My phone buzzes. Aiden. I type with bleeding fingers: “Send every contact. We’re burning this city down.”
I walk through her small apartment, touching everything she loved—her wooden spoon drying in the rack, her messy stack of library books, her tiny plant still thirsty for water.
All the pieces of her. None of the girl. My chest feels too small for my lungs. I haven’t felt this kind of fear since Grace.