Chapter 1: A Desperate Escape
POV: CLAIRE
I locked the door and dragged a chair under the handle before I let myself breathe.
My phone was already in my hand. I almost called Sofie.
Her name glowed on the screen. Rex’s smile cut in without warning, Danny’s innocent face right behind it.
I dropped the phone onto the bed. I couldn’t drag them into this.
Leaving them made my chest lock tight, but I didn’t stop. If I stopped, I’d break.
I started packing fast. Clothes went into the bag without order or care. My hands shook so badly I had to brace them against the dresser before I could write.
The pen scraped across the paper as tears blurred the words.
Stephen, my love,
I’m sorry to leave like this, but I must. My past has caught up with me, and I can’t put you in danger. Your love has been my anchor. Don’t come looking for me. I love you.
Forever yours, Claire
I stared at the page too long. My chest burned as I folded the letter and pressed it flat, steadying it in my hands.
Sofie and Alex came next.
Take care of each other and Danny. Don’t try to find me. I love you. Claire
The words came faster this time, shorter. When I finished, my throat felt raw.
Danny wouldn’t remember me. I’d spent my whole life preparing to leave, and this was the first time I wanted to stay.
Every sound outside the apartment made me flinch. A door closed down the hall. Footsteps moved past my door. Laughter cut off too quickly.
I froze and listened. There was nothing.
I didn’t let myself think about Stephen, Sofie, Alex, or Danny. Thinking would slow me down.
I placed the letters, the note, and the photograph on the table where they couldn’t be missed.
The wig waited on the chair, still wrapped in tissue from the last set I’d worked on. I shoved it into my bag, slung the strap over my shoulder, and stopped at the door.
I looked back at the couch, the blanket still folded over the arm where Stephen had pulled it around us the night before.
Then I opened the door and stepped into the hallway without letting myself hesitate.
The hallway smelled of burned toast and cheap detergent. Mrs. Klein’s television murmured behind her door, as it always did. I pulled my hood up and kept moving.
The elevator took too long, so I took the stairs instead.
Every step down echoed loudly in the stairwell.
The walk to the bank felt longer than usual. Every passing car slowed my steps. Every reflection in a window made me turn my head.
If Rex was here, he’d be patient. That patience used to make me feel safe. I kept walking.
A man stepped off the curb too fast and bumped my shoulder. I flinched before I could stop myself.
“Sorry,” he muttered, already moving on.
My pulse spiked, but I kept walking.
At the bank, I watched everyone.
A woman filled out a deposit slip while a man argued quietly at the counter, and a security guard stood near the door pretending not to stare.
No one looked twice at me. The security guard shifted his weight and spoke quietly into his radio. My spine went rigid before I could stop it.
He wasn’t looking at me.
I kept my gaze on the clock and counted backward from ten.
If he was here, he’d stay back and wait.
Every face felt wrong, every movement too close. I kept my bag tight against my side and sat rigid in the lobby after signing in. The air smelled of printer toner. I counted breaths while the clock above the teller stations ticked too loud.
When they called my name, I jumped.
Inside the banker’s office, I asked to close my account and issue a cashier’s check for the full balance.
He studied me. “That’s a substantial amount, Miss. Are you sure you wouldn’t prefer a wire transfer?”
“No,” I said, forcing my mouth into something that might pass for a smile. “A cashier’s check is fine.”
He held my gaze a moment longer, then nodded. “I’ll need a few minutes. Please wait here.”
The door closed.
The room felt smaller without him in it. My knee started bouncing before I could stop it. I pressed my heel into the floor and counted my breaths, but they wouldn’t slow.
The air thinned the way it had before, until I couldn’t get enough of it.
I stared at the wall and pictured Rex finding me before I made it out of the city, his voice low in my ear, his hands forcing me under the bathwater again.
The porcelain had been cold against my back. My heel had slipped on the tile when I tried to kick free.
He’d held me there until my lungs screamed.
I could still taste soap and water at the back of my throat.
I swallowed hard, shoved the image away, and pulled out my phone.
“Jessica, it’s me,” I said the second she answered. “I’m getting off in Jersey City. Can you pick me up at the station and take me to rent a car?”
A pause. “Is everything okay?”
“Yes,” I said too fast. I softened it. “Everything’s fine.”
“I’ll meet you at the station in about two hours.”
When the banker returned, the check was sealed inside an envelope. I slid it into my bag without looking at the amount.
I walked three blocks to the national branch I’d opened years ago for emergencies. They didn’t ask questions. I endorsed the back, signed Claire Reyes on the deposit slip, and watched the teller feed the check through the scanner.
Reyes.
I hadn’t used it on its own in years, and the teller didn’t look twice, which was exactly what I needed.
The receipt settled in my hand. The balance was updated.
In the public bathroom, I locked myself into a stall and changed. The wig came next. When I looked in the mirror, the woman staring back didn’t look like someone anyone would search for.
I crushed my phone’s SIM card under my heel, dropped it into the toilet, and flushed.
Then I boarded the subway to Jersey City.
The doors slid shut with a final hiss. I took a seat near the exit and kept my reflection in the window in view.
Every time the train slowed between stations, my pulse kicked harder.
Every time the train slowed between stations, my pulse kicked harder.
Jessica barely recognized me. She asked questions, and I gave her answers that would hold if anyone else asked later. A friend in Florida was having surgery. I was driving down to help for a few weeks.
I hugged her before she could ask anything else. Sofie would have hugged me harder.
“Thank you. I’ll be back soon.”
At the rental counter, I handed over the new card and kept my head down.
By nightfall, I was on the highway, the city shrinking in my rearview mirror.
I’d only just started to believe I could be happy.
If he came after me, he’d have to catch me first.
I pressed my foot harder on the gas and didn’t let up.
