Chapter Six

Jade's eyes sprung open to a loud, rapid tapping coming from behind the hotel room's closed door. "Housekeeping," a woman's voice announced.

She pushed herself up from the soft, feathered pillow, trying to get her bearings together. Yesterday morning, the drive to Philadelphia, the bar, him, walking to the hotel together, what they did— the recollection flooded her mind at once. Her head was throbbing, and the fog of sleep had yet to lift. The clock on the nightstand beside her read that it was past eleven a.m.

"Just a minute," Jade pleaded, her voice dry and raspy. She sat up and wiped the sleep from her eyes. The room was dim, shadowed by an overcast sky. A sheet of rain drummed against the glass pane of the picture window beside her, the plump beads cascading down it like a waterfall. The other half of the bed was now cold and empty, only a slight indentation of his existence remaining on the pillow. She didn't remember him leaving. She barely ha