Page 19

Olivia

T hings haven’t been the same since the night of my mom’s party.

Normally, crying takes the edge off. I bottle everything up, and sooner or later, it forces its way out… and then I feel relief. I wish I could say that’s what I feel now. But there’s a million things to do. A million calls to make. A dozen weddings to plan.

As Taylor and I key into the apartment building, I find myself rattling with energy. I desperately want to fall into bed and sleep until I can’t anymore. Even after a wedding like tonight’s, which was its own sort of chaos, I still have the feeling sleep will be fleeting.

“Well, that was a trip,” Taylor sighs on a laugh, climbing the stairs behind me. “I didn’t know most people get so drunk on their wedding night.”

“You’d be surprised,” I smile, hiking my dress so that I don’t trip as we reach the second level and twist towards the third. “When I first started, I thought people would actually want to remember it more.”

He laughs. “Pretty sure I saw the groom throwing up in the bushes at least a couple of times.”

“I did too,” I giggle. “Every wedding’s a little different. People celebrate in different ways.”

“You’re telling me.”

His phone dings in his pocket, and he digs it out as we come to the door of my level. His face falls, and I pause, my smile dissipating.

“Is everything okay?”

His hand moves to his pistol, and my heart stops when he unholsters it and steps in front of me. “There was an alert on the alarm. Stay behind me.”

“What-“

“Shh,” he orders, prowling forward like a silent shadow. I wrangle my galloping heart, forcing myself to follow him. “Wait here.” He motions once we’re inside the hall. Numbly, I nod as he hovers along the wall and creeps toward my door.

He silently swipes the key, quietly entering the key code, and with a single look back, he enters.

My mind is racing.

What if someone’s inside?

My heart hammers, and it must be minutes before the door opens again.

Taylor’s breath is heavy. “It’s empty. They’re gone.”

I release my breath, but when I see his hand, covered in crimson, my relief is short-lived. “Are you hurt??” I blurt, stumbling toward him, but he shakes his head. “Taylor, whose blood is that?”

At his silence, panic seizes me. Because no one was home.

Which means-

“Chesna?” I call, shoving past him. The apartment is dark, and everything feels off. Chesna’s not by the door waiting like she usually is. It’s silent, quiet enough to hear a pin drop. “Chesna??” I call, tearing toward my room where she usually naps while I’m gone, only my feet slip on the slick floor, and terror seeps into my veins.

“No. Please, no,” I beg, falling to the ground where I find her dark form huddled on the carpet. She mewls softly as I pick her up, and tears stream down my face when I find her fur all wet and matted and-

“Taylor!!” I yell, but he’s already behind me, phone in his hand.

“Yes. On our way now.” He hangs up, turning toward me. “Let’s go. Police are already on their way.”

I don’t know how I force myself to stand, to cradle Chesna to my chest and stumble the distance back to my car. Taylor drives, and all the while, I try not to sob as he guns it down the highway. Chesna’s breaths are short and too-fast, and I can feel her getting colder, her blood seeping into me. We roughly pull into the parking lot of the animal hospital.

I clamber out, but the doctors are already meeting us at the entry with a gurney. They pry her out of my arms, and I watch in horror as they wheel her inside, disappearing with my heart in their hands.

“Everything’s gonna be okay.” I feel Taylor’s hands on my shoulder, squeezing.

It should be reassuring.

Instead, all I feel is dread.