A taxi pulled up by the curb, but before I could climb in, a black car slid next to it, window rolling down. Kier leaned out, that infuriating grin on his face.
“Heading somewhere, Mrs. Reid?”
I laughed—a real, sharp laugh that bounced off the old gate. “Well, Mr. Dela Cruz, are you offering me a ride to Disneyland?”
He opened the door, tilting his head. “I’m better than your husband, aren’t I?”
I slipped into the seat beside him, the air between us buzzing with old memories and new freedom. “So far, you already are.”
The road to the airport felt like a dream—no Mike, no Nico, no Sasha’s poison dripping in my ear. Just Kier humming old love songs under his breath while the city blurred by.
Hours later, as the plane taxied onto the runway, I pressed my forehead to the tiny oval window. My phone buzzed on my tray table—Mike’s name flashing bright as a curse.
Mike: Why is the travel agency not answering? What did you do? Where are you? Fix this mess!
I smiled, tapping out my last words to the man who buried me alive for twenty years.
Me: Oh, sorry. I cancelled your trip. I left something for you at home, too. Goodbye, my dear. You’ll never see me again.