or–in–chief’s door was suddenly shoved open.
Andrew stood there.
He wore sunglasses, his stubble unshaven, the gray–black jacket on him crumpled like it had been picked off the floor.
The entire office fell into a brief silence.
He never showed up like this.
Andrew scanned the room, his voice low. “Who locked the balcony door?”
The editor–in–chief froze. “Mr. Williams, you mean that sealed–off office?”
“I told them to leave it ventilated.”
“But the security system updated recently. The locks auto–engage now.”
He didn’t respond, just stepped back into the hallway with a cold expression.
That balcony office–their shared editing suite before Emerie left. Its floor–to–ceiling windows faced Heritage Coast, her favorite angle for the dying light.
She’d said, “Don’t seal this window shut after I’m gone.”
Andrew sat motionless on the office sofa, clutching the old camcorder she’d used.
Her script lay on the desk, pages worn fuzzy at the edges, the cover text faded beyond recognition.
He suddenly stood, hurling the camcorder to the ground.
Lens shards scattered, plastic casing flew. He dropped to his knees, gathering pieces as he whispered, “I’m sorry. Please stop hiding.”
“Emerie, punish me if you want.”
“Just don’t stay this silent.”
“Come back. Yell at me. Hit me. Why won’t you say anything?”
His fingertip split open, blood smearing the lens. Outside the door, she watched, tears streaming, powerless to act.
She couldn’t rush in. Couldn’t stop his bleeding. Couldn’t hold him. Couldn’t even make a sound,
She stood at the threshold, biting her lip white, crushing her employee badge in her fist, voice trapped in her throat,
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Chapter 11
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Until he suddenly knelt, shouting at empty air: “Are you here?!”
“Are you watching me?”
“Please. Give me a sign.”
She couldn’t bear it anymore. Throwing herself against the door, she squeezed her eyes shut and screamed into noth- ingness with all her strength:
“I’m here!”
“Andrew, I’m here. Please stop this.”
But his expression remained unchanged. He heard nothing.
She realized he couldn’t hear her voice at all.
She was just a wisp of shadow.
No voice. No form. No right to embrace him. No place to stand before him.
She collapsed to her knees, sobbing uncontrollably.
“I’m begging you. Stop this.”
Kneeling on the floor, she covered her face with both hands.
A breeze lifted the curtain edge, spilling moonlight over her shoulders.
The first night of the Rebirth Cycle.
She sat in the hallway outside the abandoned editing suite, keeping watch until he finally fell into deep sleep.
Moonlight washed over his still–pale face, but his breathing steadied at last.
And she–she finally made her decision.
If he was willing to endure these seven days…
She would walk this path with him.
Even if she truly faded in the end, she wouldn’t let him walk the ending alone.
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Chapter 12
Chapter 12
