THE NIGHT I DISAPPEARED

Adrian refused to help me manufacture a death.

“I won't put you in danger or forge records,” he said. “And I won't make this decision for you.”

I was angry at first. Some foolish part of me wanted a powerful man to snap his fingers and erase my past. But Adrian stayed and listened while Noah joined us by phone. Together we developed a plan that required no elaborate deception: I would move away from Crown City, keep my location private, and have Noah handle any contact from Julian. Adrian could provide secure transportation to the restoration studio's satellite residence in Briar Glen, three hours inland.

“You can leave whenever you want,” Adrian told me. “Including if you decide you don't want my help.”

I believed him. That was new.

For three days I packed what I could reclaim. Noah collected my work tools, sketchbooks, and the photographs of our late mother from the apartment. Julian called dozens of times, then began leaving messages that alternated between threats and forced amusement.

You can't be serious.

Stop hiding behind Sterling.

I know you're trying to make me jealous.

By the fourth day, his calls sounded different.

Elliot, just answer. We can talk.

I didn't answer.

I spent one afternoon at the old restoration studio, clearing my desk and saying goodbye. Outside, Julian appeared beside his silver sports car. I had never seen him look so startled to find me standing without waiting for him.

“You're leaving town?”

“Yes.”

He caught my wrist. “You're not seriously leaving me.”

“I already did.”

“You love me.”

“I used to.”

Something ugly passed through his face. “Is this about Adrian Sterling? Is that why you've suddenly grown a spine?”

“It's about me.” I pulled my hand free. “Don't touch me again.”

My escort opened the car door. Julian watched me get in, his expression twisted with disbelief.

We were supposed to drive inland the following morning. But an urgent update closed the northern highway ahead of the storm, and the safer alternate route was now scheduled to shut at dawn. Noah advised waiting. I wanted to go while I still had the courage. We compromised: two security vehicles, a professional driver, and an early evening departure before the worst weather arrived.

The first hour was uneventful. I watched the harbor lights recede, then took a photograph of them through the window. I wanted to remember that I'd actually left.

Near the Westcliff bend, a sudden rockfall hit the road ahead. Our driver braked. The lead vehicle radioed a warning. Gravel skittered beneath the tires, and a tree came down behind us, blocking the return lane.

“Everybody out,” the driver ordered. “Away from the slope.”

Rain whipped my face as we climbed out. The wind swallowed our voices. I followed a security officer toward a marked maintenance path, but another slide thundered above us. Someone shoved me clear of the falling debris. My foot slipped on wet stone.

I tumbled through brush and hit a narrow shelf below the road. Pain shot through my ankle. Far above, flashlights swung wildly.

“I'm down here!” I yelled.

The ocean was roaring somewhere beyond the rocks. I tried to climb, but the ground gave way under my hands. The next fall knocked the breath out of me.

I lay in a hollow between boulders, soaked and shivering. My phone screen was broken. I could see the road lights but couldn't make my voice reach them.

For one strange moment, I remembered the printed ending of that terrible romance. A hundred chapters of suffering in exchange for one page of forgiveness.

I didn't want to die. I wanted a chance to discover who I could become.

I must have lost consciousness. When I surfaced, the rain had eased. A light moved across the rocks, and someone shouted my name with raw desperation.

“Elliot!”

I knew that voice.

“Here,” I tried to say.

Adrian appeared above the hollow, attached to a rescue line. He dropped to his knees beside me and put two fingers to my throat. His usually steady hands were shaking.

“I have him!” he called. Then, quietly, “Elliot, open your eyes.”

I couldn't.

He pulled his jacket around my shoulders and carefully held my head still for the medics.

“Please,” he whispered. “I can't lose you before I've even had the chance to love you.”

I wanted to ask what he meant.

Instead, darkness closed over me again.