Chapter 5

The day I was discharged, the doctor told me to watch my emotional state and suggested I get out of the house more.

I didn't go back to the estate. I had the driver take me to the old streets in the South Side—far from Scarfaro territory, where no one would recognize me.

I walked for a long time, until my legs began to give out. There was a bar on the corner. I pushed through the door and settled into a booth by the window.

The server brought me a sparkling water. I leaned back and tried to empty my mind.

Then I saw them.

Casper and Cecilia, walking side by side through the crowd across the street. She had a bit of ice cream on the corner of her mouth. He stopped, pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, tilted her chin up, and wiped it away with his thumb.

She laughed and tilted her head to dodge him. He held her chin, the motion natural and patient.

Then he dropped to one knee and retied her loosened shoelace.

My hand froze in midair, the glass of water suspended.

Once, he'd done the same for me. Driven two hours through a snowstorm to buy me the dessert I was craving. Knelt without hesitation on a busy street to tie my laces.

But time is a cruel thing. Even the deepest vows have an expiration date.

I looked away and pulled the curtain shut.

Just then, Cecilia's voice drifted in from the doorway. She was tugging Casper into the bar, and they chose the booth right next to mine.

Only a thin wooden partition separated us, with almost no soundproofing. Every word of their conversation came through crystal clear.

"After you wrecked my wedding, my parents lost their minds." Cecilia's voice was petulant, wheedling. "They're pushing me to go on blind dates and threatening to cut off all support. I don't want to marry anyone else… Even without any official status, all I want is to be with you, Casper."

A brief silence.

Then his low voice, carrying a certainty I hadn't heard once in the past year.

"I'll marry you. Go tell your parents—the Donna of the Scarfaro family isn't a position just anyone gets to eye."

Cecilia drew in a sharp breath. "You mean it? But aren't you still… bound to Veronica?"

"We only held a ceremony. I never filed the paperwork." His voice dropped even lower, but every word punched through that thin partition like a bullet. "In a few days, I'll send her away under the guise of a trip. Then I'll take you to get our license and have it done properly."

My fingers slowly curled into fists, nails piercing my palms.

So that was it.

His carefully orchestrated "Northern Lights trip." The deliberately softened voice in the hospital room. None of it had ever been about making amends.

He wanted to get me out of the way so he'd have time to marry another woman at the courthouse.

Through the wall came the sound of them working out the details—witnesses, dates, the license they'd already applied for. Cecilia's voice was intimate and excited, like a woman about to get everything she'd ever wanted.

Just like I had once been.

I couldn't stay another second.

I grabbed my bag and fled to the restroom, locking the door behind me. The woman in the mirror was ghostly pale, eyes glistening, the half-healed scar on her forehead still faintly red.

I turned on the faucet. Cold water hit my face but couldn't quench the searing pain in my chest.

I don't know how long I'd been standing there when a piercing alarm ripped through the air.

"Fire! Everyone out—now!"

Screams and chaos erupted in an instant. I shoved open the restroom door and smoke immediately poured in, sending me into a violent coughing fit.

I covered my nose and mouth and pushed toward the exit with the crowd. In the mayhem, out of the corner of my eye, I caught a figure fighting against the current, plunging back inside.

It was Casper.

His shirt was soaked through with sweat, his expression bordering on deranged.

"Cecilia!" His voice was shredded by the smoke. "Cecilia, where are you?"

A bystander tried to stop him. "Are you out of your mind? It's all fire in there!"

Casper wrenched free of the man's grip and charged into the inferno without looking back.

I was carried out by the surge of bodies, and I stood across the street. Watching the flames consume the building, my heart contracted into a fist.

A long time later, a figure came stumbling out of the smoke.

Casper was covered in injuries, half his hair singed away, his arms streaked with burns. But Cecilia was cradled in his arms, shielded completely, not a scratch on her.

He staggered two steps before both knees hit the ground. Even then, his arms stayed locked around her. He wouldn't let go.

The paramedics rushed over and carefully lifted them onto stretchers.

I stood there, watching the ambulance shrink into the distance, until its taillights vanished at the end of the street.

The crowd dispersed. The sirens faded. All that was left on the street was the steady drip of the fire hose and the sound of my own breathing.

I don't know how long I stood there. My legs had gone numb, but my body refused to move—as though the moment I stepped away from that spot, I'd have to acknowledge a truth I wasn't yet ready to face.

Finally, I unclenched my white-knuckled fists, turned around, and walked into the night.

Back at the estate, I turned off my phone and severed every line of contact.

I packed the rest of my belongings into a suitcase, checked my passport and immigration documents, then took out my phone and called the airline back.

"Confirm the itinerary. Five days from—"

The door burst open.

Casper stood in the doorway, blood seeping through the bandage on his forehead. His breathing was heavy, his eyes sweeping over the open suitcase on the floor before locking onto me.

"Where are you going, Veronica?"