I opened my eyes to grey morning light slicing through the curtains. The bed beside me was cold. No Simon. No heavy arm thrown over my waist, no breath on my neck. Relief hit first, sharp and sweet. Good. Let him stay gone.
I sat up slowly. The diamond on my finger caught the light like a handcuff made of ice. I turned my hand, watching it glitter. Heavy. Mocking. A brand.
Knock-knock-knock.
I dragged myself off the mattress, bare feet on cold floor, and yanked the door open.
A girl in her mid-twenties beamed up at me. Big brown eyes, brunette bun so tight it looked painful, tray of food balanced on one hand. She wore a neat charcoal work dress with the pack crest stitched over the heart.
