Chapter 3

Zara Pov 

I moved on autopilot. I just needed a place to sit, to rest my head and to let myself feel. My feet led me to a hotel.  

The hotel lobby was quiet at that hour, the soft lighting and low music a stark contrast of what I just walked out of. 

I made my way to the front desk, my box of belongings heavy against my hip, my dress still creased from a party that marked an end rather than the new beginning I had hoped for. 

"One room, please," I said. "Just for tonight."

The clerk smiled the practiced smile of someone used to late check-ins, tapping details into her screen without really looking at me. 

I focused on breathing, on standing upright, on not thinking about the sound of that door locking behind me.

"That'll be on this card?" she asked, and I nodded, sliding it across the counter.

She swiped it. Paused. Swiped it again.

"I'm sorry, it's not going through," she said, still smiling politely. "Do you have another card, maybe?"

I dug through my bag, my hands steadier than I expected, and handed her a second one. I watched her try too. 

A second passed, then two. 

I could see the lines between her brows start to crease. 

Declined. 

"There must be some kind of system error," I said, my voice coming out more shaky than I wanted or intended.

"Can you try once more?"

Her smile started to shift completely now, the polite patience curdling into something closer to pity, and I understood before she said another word.

I already knew whose name those accounts bore and how much of my life was never truly my own. 

I slowly reached for the cards, flashing a weak smile at the clerk. 

She didn't smile back. My grip on my bag tightened as I spun around, dumping the cards in the closest bin. 

The night breeze greeted me again as I trailed off, in a different direction than I came. 

I didn't call ahead. I just started walking, my box tucked under one arm, the cold air doing nothing to clear the fog sitting behind my eyes.

The walk to my parents' house wasn't far, not by distance, but every block felt longer than it should have, my heels catching on cracks in the sidewalk I used to know by heart.

I rehearsed what I'd say the whole way there. 

“Mom, I need somewhere to stay, just for a few nights.”

“Dad, please, just let me explain.” 

I ran through a dozen versions, softening the words, sharpening them, trying to find some arrangement that wouldn't sound like the failure I already felt.

But by the time their porch light came into view, I'd abandoned every single one of them.

I stood at the bottom of the steps longer than I meant to, staring up at the house that used to be mine that has now become somewhere I dreaded to thread. 

I already knew, somewhere underneath the numbness, how this was going to go but maybe, just maybe, I was being pessimistic. 

Maybe the warmth of family would thaw them. Just maybe but I could only hope as I climbed the steps anyway, because there was nowhere else left for me to be.

I sucked in a deep breath as I raised my shaking hands to knock. 

It took a minute but the door opened. It opened just enough for my father to see who it was and after seeing, he didn't open it further.

"Zara." His voice was flat, already tired of the conversation before it started.

"Dad, please. I just need somewhere to stay tonight. That's all I'm asking."

Behind him, I caught a glimpse of my mother at the edge of the hallway, arms crossed, with no intention to join him at the door.

"You made your choice five years ago," he said. "You chose him over this family. Don't come back here now that he's decided he's done with you."

My heart lurched. They heard…

I pushed the aching feeling away. "It's not that simple…"

"It's exactly that simple." He glanced past me, toward the box under my arm, like it confirmed something he'd already decided. "You didn't want our advice when you married him. I don't see why you'd want our help now."

"Please." The word barely made it out. "It's cold, and I have nowhere-"

"That's not our problem anymore."

The door shut. I heard the lock turn a second later, quiet and final. Their hearts didn't thaw. 

I stood on the porch for a moment, staring at the door like it might reopen if I waited long enough but I knew that was just wishful thinking. 

I took one last look before turning away. 

I walked without any direction, block after block, the cold finally cutting through the numbness that had carried me this far. 

My box grew heavier with every step, or maybe my arms were just giving out along with everything else.

I hadn't eaten since the small plate of appetizers at the party, hours and a lifetime ago. 

My legs felt distant and disconnected, like they belonged to someone else entirely.

The edges of my vision started to blur somewhere around the fourth or fifth block, the streetlights smearing into long streaks of orange.

I told myself to keep walking. Just to the next corner. Just a little further but my knees gave out before I reached it.

The pavement rushed up faster than I expected, cold biting through my palms as I caught myself, barely. 

My box tumbled from my arms, spilling something small and unimportant across the sidewalk.

I tried to push myself back up. I had to keep going, keep moving but my arms… my arms wouldn't cooperate.

The streetlights blurred further, narrowing at the edges until I was looking at the world through a tunnel that kept shrinking. Sound arrived strange and delayed, the city noise folding in on itself.

I heard it from somewhere behind me, footsteps. Fast, urgent, growing louder against the pavement.

A voice, maybe. Calling something I couldn't quite catch but I wanted to. To make out the voice but I couldn't quite hold onto long enough to. 

I tried to turn toward it at least. Maybe I can see if not hear. 

But the next I knew was everything going dark before I could.