Monday arrived sharp and unforgiving.
The campus air felt thicker than usual-charged, like the sky before a storm no one had predicted. Whispers trailed me like shadows in the hallways: quick glances, stifled laughs, phones angled just enough to capture me without being obvious. No one said anything to my face. They didn't have to. The silence was accusation enough.
Mia hadn't spoken since the rooftop.
No texts.
No calls.
No dramatic confrontation in the quad.
Just… nothing.
The absence was louder than any rumor she could have spread.
I told myself I didn't care.
I only cared about her.
Raven had barely left her apartment all weekend. She'd painted like the world was ending-charcoal dust on her fingers, black paint smeared across her cheekbones, eyes focused on the canvas as if it were the only thing keeping her from unraveling. I'd brought her coffee at 3 a.m., food at midnight, clean brushes when she ran out. She'd let me stay, but she spoke in fragments-soft thanks, quiet nods, the occasional brush of her fingers against mine when she thought I wasn't looking.
Friday night on the rooftop still lived between us like a bruise-beautiful, painful, impossible to ignore.
This morning she'd kissed me at the door.
Quick.
Almost shy.
Her lips lingering just long enough to make my chest ache.
"Don't be late," she'd whispered, voice barely audible over the hum of the old building.
"I won't," I promised.
She smiled-small, real, the kind of smile that cracked open something inside me every time.
The art competition was at 3:00 p.m. in the main gallery building across campus. One lecture stood between me and her moment.
I sat through Art History 101 in the back row, leg bouncing under the desk, mind already miles ahead. I pictured her standing beside her canvas-short pixie hair tucked behind one ear, silver lip ring catching the light, storm-gray eyes nervous but fierce. I pictured the judges' faces when they saw what she'd created: decay made beautiful, pain turned into something haunting and alive. I pictured kissing her afterward-slow, proud, paint still wet on her hands.
Class ended at 2:40.
I grabbed my keys and ran.
The parking lot was half-empty. My black sedan waited in the back row-old, reliable, but fast enough when I pushed it.
I slid in, engine roaring to life. Tires squealed as I peeled out.
The roads were quiet. Too quiet for a Monday afternoon.
I pushed the accelerator harder.
The gallery was only ten minutes away if I hurried.
Phone buzzed in the cupholder.
Raven.
I grinned, answered on speaker without looking.
"Hey, baby."
"You're late," she said. Her voice was soft but edged with nerves-shy Raven peeking through the strong one.
"I'm almost there. One minute. I swear."
A pause. I could hear her breathing-quick, uneven.
"I'm scared, Elliot."
My heart twisted.
"Don't be. You're fucking incredible. They're going to lose their minds when they see it."
Another pause.
"I love you," she whispered.
The words hit me like a physical force.
"I love you too-"
The light ahead turned red.
I didn't see it.
Tires screeched somewhere to my left.
A horn blared-long, furious.
Time fractured.
I looked left.
Too late.
A silver SUV barreled through the intersection.
Metal screamed.
Glass exploded inward in a glittering storm.
The world tilted violently.
My head snapped against the window.
Pain bloomed white-hot across my skull.
The seatbelt bit into my chest.
The car spun-once, twice-tires shrieking on asphalt.
Then impact.
A sickening crunch.
Everything went quiet.
Raven's voice-faint, panicked-echoed through the cracked speaker.
"Elliot? Elliot!"
Blood trickled warm down my temple, coppery on my tongue.
My vision blurred-red dashboard lights smearing into streaks.
Sirens wailed in the distance, growing closer.
I tried to speak.
Couldn't.
The phone slipped from the holder, screen spiderwebbed, her name still glowing on the cracked glass.
Raven.
Raven.
My eyelids grew impossibly heavy.
Her face flickered behind them-storm-gray eyes, black lipstick, the way she looked when she finally let me in.
Then darkness swallowed everything.