“Roscoe,” he replied. “Found you after the accident. Took you to the hospital. You were unconscious.”
I wanted to ask more, but the room spun, and I blacked out again.
When I opened my eyes, Roscoe was gone. No note. No explanation. No contact. No missed calls, no messages, no check-ins.
Except for my mother.
Mom: Call me when you’re on your way. Everything’s ready. Come home.
I didn’t tell her what had happened. I couldn’t—didn’t want her to worry.
The nurse said I’d been lucky. The car hit me from the side. Nothing broken. Still, I needed a few more days to heal.
So I stayed. Alone.
Finally, discharge day arrived. I returned to the apartment, just to collect the last of my things before booking my flight home.
That’s when Nathan appeared in the doorway.
“Oh, good, you’re back,” he said, smiling as if nothing had ever occurred. “Listen… we had to sell your car. And some of your things. Sabrina needed emergency funds, and—”
“What?” I froze. “You sold my things?”
“Relax,” Gabriel said, stepping in. “We’ll pay you back. Sabrina’s been through a lot since the robbery. She needs someone to care for her—can you cook? She hasn’t been eating properly.”
I blinked, stunned. “Are you serious?”