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Chapter 137
Chapter 137:
Just as the darkness closed over her completely, a large, warm hand broke through the snow. Strong fingers wrapped around her wrist and pulled her back from the edge.
Through the screaming wind, June looked up. A young man stood above her — deep, familiar eyes, a strong jaw, the face that had once been the only light she could see. The person who had pulled her back from the edge of herself.
“Cole,” June murmured in her sleep, her head moving restlessly against the pillow.
Then the wind shifted.
The boy’s face blurred, as though she were looking at him through a thick pane of frosted glass. Slowly, his grip loosened. He released her wrist.
𝗗𝘰wոl𝗈ad 𝖯𝗗𝖥ѕ 𝗳𝗿ee 𝗼ո
June screamed in the dream and reached for him. But he turned his back and walked away into the endless white dark, and he did not look back.
June’s eyes snapped open.
She sat up gasping, her chest heaving, her silk pajamas soaked through with cold sweat. She turned to the clock on her nightstand.
3:00 AM.
The rain continued to beat against the glass.
June drew her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. The terror of losing him in the dream — that boy who had once saved her life — clung to her skin like ice. Her heart hammered at a pace that was almost painful.
She stared into the dark room and breathed until it steadied.
By the time her pulse quieted, a decision had formed — quiet and absolute. Tomorrow morning, she was going to the cemetery. She needed to sit with her parents. She needed to find solid ground before the weight of everything finally broke her.
The sky over the outskirts of New York was a heavy, bruised purple. The air carried the sharp smell of wet asphalt and decaying autumn leaves.
June walked alone down a narrow gravel path through the public cemetery, her long black trench coat pulled tight against the biting wind, its collar turned up against her jaw. In her hands she held a simple bouquet of white roses.
She stopped in front of the Erickson family plot.
She bent down slowly, her knees popping in the cold, and placed the bouquet at the base of the gray granite headstone. She reached out and traced the carved letters of her parents’ names with her fingertips. The stone was freezing.
She stood there for a long time, the wind pulling her dark hair across her face. She spoke in a low whisper — about the R&D progress at Apex Bio, about finally getting the Cartier brooch back, about her absolute and unbreakable decision to finalize the divorce. When she finally fell silent, the crushing weight on her chest felt, if only slightly, less impossible to carry.
June turned and began walking back toward the visitor parking lot.
