Fire blazes high into the early morning sky. Flames lick the edges of deep blue, bleeding into the mosaic of red and orange clouds, the horizon and the inferno indistinguishable—like the sky itself is burning.
“Grayson—” I choke out, panic lacing my voice. Only as I start to shout his name, the reality of where I am and what’s happening crashes into me fully.
I yank at the cuffs. A chain coils around the scaffold, shackling me to the trap Grayson and I used to kill a man.
Beyond the maze, the house is fully engulfed in flames. The pop and snap of burning beams reaches my ears before the distant wail of sirens.
Frantic, I examine my body. I’m again wearing the black dress Grayson chose for me, and an irrational thought hits me…that this has to be another test. I glance up to search for a key—but they’re gone.
Allthe keys are gone.
My chest pangs with a hollow, resonating ache.
Grayson told me he would let me go.
Oh, god. I didn’t imagine anything. I didn’t invent what happened between us. No, my memories are clear. Every moment, every word, every touch still lives inside me. They’re part of me now. And the world around me feels more transparent than it ever has.
Only Grayson is missing.
He let me go.
I yank at the handcuffs, desperate to escape and find him and?—
What?
Run off into the sunset like some deranged Bonnie and Clyde? Hunted by the law, fueled by consuming love and danger and… resentment.
Because that’s what our reality would be.
I sag against the scaffold, bone-weary, muscles heavy. Reality is a black hole, inescapable.
I couldn’t see past the present, past the instant gratification—yet Grayson could.
Still, he didn’t give me a choice. He decided for me.
“Fuck you,” I mutter beneath my breath, my gaze shifting to the roaring fire.
Police lights flash through the trees, splashing red and blue across the pines. As the flames rise higher, smoke curling into the callous morning sky, the shouts of firefighters and police clash. A suffocating melancholy grips my chest.
Then voices grow louder, getting closer to the clearing.
“Dr. Noble?”
The dull talons of misery drag me under. I can’t respond.
I can’t breathe.
“Dr. London Noble…I found her—” A deep voice calls out. “Are you all right?”
My blurry gaze snags on a single detail. A dark suit. An FBI pin clipped to a gray tie.
“I’m Special Agent Nelson,” the agent says, couching next to me. “You’re safe now.”
His hand lands gently on my bare shoulder, a calculated gesture of comfort.
“Let’s get some help over here,” he shouts over the rising noise.
I curl my body around the scaffold, clinging to its solid form. Just moments ago, I was free—free in a way I never dared to imagine. The world was color and heat and texture. Alive. And in a blink, I’ve been thrust back into the dull and guilt-leaden world.
