Chapter 4

I stood on the street corner, leaning against a lamppost for support. It took me ten minutes to get a taxi.

When I got home, I lay down in bed and drifted into a hazy sleep.

In the middle of the night, my phone rang.

It was Lydia's number. However, when I answered, Philip's voice came through instead.

"Nathaniel? Ms. Payne had too much to drink tonight. She insists you come get her, or she won't leave otherwise. We're at the bar. Hurry up."

I glanced at the time. It was 2:00 am.

My abdomen still ached, and I felt weak all over.

I opened my mouth to speak, but my throat was too dry to make a sound.

I hung up and lay back down.

The phone rang again. I rejected the call, only for it to start right back up.

The third time, I got up and put on my clothes. Every moment pulled at the pain.

Old habits, I supposed.

For five years, I'd grown used to being at her beck and call, to setting aside my own needs, and to always putting her first.

This time, I told myself, would be my final farewell.

The bar was in Medburg, so I took an hour-long subway ride.

I pushed open the door. The lights were dim, the music pounding. I searched the place but didn't see Lydia.

I called her phone. When the call connected, I asked, "Hello? Lydia, where are—"

From the receiver came the rustle of fabric, followed by Philip's cry.

"Lydia, kiss me."

"Okay," Lydia replied, her voice low and husky with alcohol.

I stood at the entrance of the bar, phone pressed to my ear, listening to the sounds on the other end.

My stomach churned violently. I braced myself against the wall and dry heaved, but nothing came up.

I hung up and turned to leave.

Suddenly, several figures appeared before me.

Three tall, drunk men gave me a hostile once-over.

"Hey, Luxorian, are you alone? How about lending us some cash?"

One of them stepped closer and shoved my shoulder. I stumbled back, my back hitting the wall.

Another grabbed me by the collar. His grip was strong, and I couldn't break free.

"Back off! My friends are on their way!" I shouted in Astorian, but my voice trembled.

"Friends? Where?" They laughed and closed in on me.

I was about to cry for help when a fist slammed into my stomach. The pain doubled me over instantly, black spots swimming before my eyes.

Then, the blows came like rain. Fists and boots pounded my body, my back, and my head. I curled up on the ground, shielding my head, as my consciousness began to fade.

With shaking hands, I called Lydia again, praying she'd hear what was happening and come to save me.

The nauseating sounds from the receiver seemed to pause for a moment, then the line went dead.

I called again, but she'd already turned her phone off.

My own phone was kicked out of my hand. Someone yanked me up by my hair and punched me in the face.

Warm liquid trickled from my nose, the taste of blood flooding my mouth.

I closed my eyes.

Just as I was teetering on the edge of unconsciousness, a blinding white light cut through the darkness.

"Hey! What are you doing? Let him go, or I'm calling the cops!"

The beating stopped. Cursing loudly, the men turned and ran.

The man who saved me was middle-aged, with a Luxorian face. He asked if I wanted to call the police.

I shook my head. After thanking him, I picked up my phone and staggered to my feet.

By the time I got home, dawn was approaching.

I stood in the bathroom and turned on the faucet. Then, I looked at myself in the mirror.

My lip was split, my nose was swollen and red, my hair was a tangled mess, and my eyes were rimmed with red.

I opened the deepest corner of the closet and pulled out the carry-on suitcase I'd packed long ago.

On the way to the airport, my phone kept ringing. Lydia's name flashed on the screen again and again, yet I didn't answer.

At the airport, I pulled out the Astorian SIM card and tossed it into the trash bin. Then, I walked into the departure hall.

The overhead announcement echoed through the terminal, "Flight to Gilland is now boarding."

I stood up and walked forward with my suitcase.

At the security checkpoint, the staff asked, "Sir, are you traveling alone?"

I nodded.

"Welcome home."

I looked out the window at the white aircraft and suddenly smiled.

Goodbye, Starbrough.

Goodbye, Lydia.