The two-block trek to Chad’s apartment building feels endless. Each step is a struggle against the cold wind pulling at the soaked fabric of my dress and silk slippers, more useless against the Chicago winter than my busted rain boots.
Although the slush isn’t quite as slushy as it was when I was last here.
My gaze searches for the snow plowed from the streets and piled on the sidewalks, but the previously icy, snow-covered concrete only holds melted patches of slush and dirty puddles. Kane said time moves differently between realms, and the evidence is all around me.
How long have I been gone?
I bite the inside of my cheek. Maybe it’s a good thing I don’t have my phone. The idea of facing dozens of missed calls and messages from my mom and Posh Pulse makes my heart lurch.
I keep my head down as I pass cyclists and dog walkers, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other. When I finally reach Chad’s building, I hesitate a few feet from the entrance. The last time I was here, I found out he was cheating on me and that I’m too desperate and stuck to be a viable romantic partner.
Then again, I disappeared to an entirely different realm and found out the same thing.
Even though Kane says he no longer has feelings for Ivy and all signs point to that being the truth, they were engaged. He needed her to fulfill his plan. Somehow, that’s worse.
But he doesn’t love her, Hannah. He might actually love you. But you ran away before you could find out. Now he’s going to die and—
“Shut up!” I bite out, just as the doorman swings open the door.
“Charming, as always.” Stuart scans me from head to toe, lingering on the wet braid draped like a rat’s tail over my shoulder and the puddle forming around my feet.
I step into the lobby with a final shiver as the warm air thaws the chill that’s stiffened my limbs. The lobby is empty and quiet, with only the soft hum of the heater and the distant sound of the elevator doors opening and closing.
“I need to use the phone,” I say, following him to his desk.
He cocks his head, a smirk playing on his thin lips as he sits down at his post. “From your exit on your last visit, I assumed Mr. Bartley would no longer be receiving you as his guest.”
I stiffen, drawing on every ounce of my inner Lady Ashwood. “You assumed incorrectly, Stuart. Phone,” I say, my voice clipped. “Now.”
His beady eyes widen, but he quickly masks his surprise with a condescending sneer and pushes the phone across the desk. “Did you leave something here from your last visit? It’s been a few days, but I can check—”
“How many?” I demand, my voice sharp, anxiety gnawing at my insides.
Confusion creases his forehead.
“How many days since my last visit?”
“Three, but I—”
“Thank you.” I cut him off, picking up the receiver and turning my back to him.
I dial the only number I know by heart besides my mom’s. The phone rings, each tone trilling in my ear like a countdown. I take a deep breath, steeling myself for what’s to come.
“It’s a wonderful day here at Posh Pulse. How can we make your day wonderful too?”
* * *
I stand outside Chad’s apartment building, my damp clothes clinging to me like a second skin, my hair getting frizzier by the minute. My teeth chatter despite my best efforts to clench my jaw, and I wrap my arms around myself, trying to ward off the lingering chill.
The streetlights click on, casting a dim yellow glow over the cracked sidewalk when Jade honks, her sleek black Mercedes gliding to a stop in front of me. I open the door and run my hand over my butt to make sure I’m not too wet to sit in her luxury vehicle before sinking into the plush leather seat and closing the door.
“Hannah—” Jade starts, but I hold up my hand.
“Don’t ask about the dress or where I’ve been, okay? Like I said when I called, I lost my purse, and I just need a ride to my apartment.”
Jade nods and shifts the car into gear, and we pull away from the curb, the streetlights casting fleeting patterns across the sleek dashboard. We drive through the city as it transitions from day to night and the last rays of the sun fade into the inky-blue sky.
I should feel relieved to be back. And I do. For the most part. But this isn’t the warm welcome I imagined. The city feels different, harsher, as if I’ve been gone for years instead of days. The familiar streets seem cold, the sounds more jarring. It’s as if the city has changed in the days I was gone. Or perhaps I have.
