For a moment, the words feel strangely familiar. Like I’ve said them before. A memory flickers at the edge of my mind. Me saying the same thing to someone else.
I’ve got you.
I’m here.
But the image is blurry, out of reach. The feeling that comes with it is stronger than the memory itself.
A strange ache.
Like the slow, painful feeling of losing someone. The sensation slips through my fingers before I can understand it. I shake the thought away. This isn’t about me right now, this is about Nadia.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers again after a moment. “I should go. I just… I wanted you to know.” Before I can say anything else, the call ends.
I can’t get that memory out of my head. It sits there in the back of my mind, just out of reach. I keep trying to grab it, to pull it into focus, but every time I get close it slips away again.
I try to remember.
Who was I saying it to?
I’ve got you.
I’m here.
But the memory won’t come, only the feeling remains.
A heavy one.
Loss.
It presses against my chest like something is missing, like a piece of me was once there and somehow vanished without a trace. Not drifted away, not faded, gone. Completely gone. My fingers curl against my chest as if I can physically hold my heart together. The emptiness scares me, I shove the feeling away, push it down before I can think about it too much.
I don’t understand it. And right now I don’t have the space to because another thought pushes its way forward.
Dominic.
A sick feeling settles in me. Why did he say he did it?
If Sophie’s car was found in a ditch…
Did he run her off the road?
Did he—
My breath catches. Oh my God. The image flashes through my mind before I can stop it. Dominic standing over her, the blood on his hands. Something inside me recoils. I cannot believe he’s capable of something like that. Something so cold. So evil.
Lucien’s voice breaks through my thoughts.
“Sera.” I look at him. His eyes flicker toward me briefly before returning to the road. “No matter what happens,” he says quietly, “I’m here.” His voice is steady. Grounding. “I’m here for you. No matter what.”
He squeezes my hand gently before lifting it to his lips. He kisses the back of it softly while his other hand steadies the wheel. The car continues down the dark road. For a while we drive in silence again. I stare out through the windshield, watching the empty road stretch endlessly ahead of us. The headlights slice through the darkness.
Then, my heart stops.
A pair of headlights approaches in the opposite lane.
At first it’s just another car passing by.
Until it gets closer.