As we neared the neighborhood, her phone rang. That same man’s voice came through, speaking urgently. Without hesitation, she pulled the car to a stop and turned to me.
“I have something urgent came up at the office. Got to go handle it. The house is just a few miles away—you can walk, and I’m sure it’ll be good exercise for you.”
Without another word, she drove off, leaving me standing on the roadside. The wind whipped at my face as I watched her car disappear into the distance.
With the icy wind biting at my skin, she left me there, alone. The bitter northern wind howled, cutting through my jacket like it wasn’t even there. Yet, she expected me to walk home, barely dressed for the cold.
By the time I reached my apartment, my fingers were stiff, and my face stung from the relentless wind. But that wasn’t the worst of it. By the time I reached home, the distinct scent of someone else’s perfume still lingered in the air—one that certainly didn’t belong to me.
I opened the windows to let in the frigid, cleansing air and began packing my things. It took less than an hour to gather everything Odessa had left at my place: clothes, makeup, books she claimed she’d read someday but never did.