The moment replayed in her mind, unbidden, as she stood there. Years ago, it had been her in that elevator, Luther by her side, carrying her boxes into his apartment. He had smiled at her then, full of promises for a future that now seemed like a cruel joke.
Monica sighed, breaking the heavy silence. “You’re really going through with this?”
Seraphine nodded, her voice steady but cold. “There’s nothing left to explain. If he cared, he wouldn’t leave things unresolved. He’s made his choice.”
The truck was unloaded quickly, but when Seraphine returned downstairs, Luther still hadn’t reappeared. Out of courtesy—or perhaps lingering habit—she sent him a brief message asking if he’d be back soon. The reply came moments later, not from Luther, but from Cornelia.
“Hi, Seraphine!” The voice message carried Cornelia’s saccharine tone. “Luther is helping me fix some issues here. The wiring’s ancient, and it’s a mess. You should head home—we’ll be a while. Don’t wait up!”
Seraphine’s grip tightened on her phone. Before she could close the app, another message came through.