Page 49 of Their Arrangement

---

It all started here.

At this door.

This name.

This ghost I couldn’t outrun.

“I shouldn’t be here,” I whispered.

My breath fogged the glass.

“But it’s the only place that still feels like you.”

I didn’t cry.

Not here.

Not where the walls still remembered her better than they’d ever know me.

I didn’t go back to my desk.

Didn’t check the message Loyal sent asking if I was okay.

Didn’t wait for another task. Another look. Another slice.

I just walked away.

Down the stairs.

Through the lobby.

Out the front doors.

And into the rain.

It started soft.

Light pinpricks against my skin.

But it didn’t stay that way.

By the time I hit the crosswalk, it had deepened into a slow, deliberate soak.

The kind of rain that feels personal.

I didn’t run.

Didn’t open my umbrella.

Didn’t care if people stared at the girl in the soaked blouse and twisted skirt.

Let the rain cling to me.

Let it seep through my fabric and into my skin.

Let it wash everything off that bathroom mirror hadn’t.

The cemetery wasn’t far.

---