Emma never thought she'd step into this apartment again. The lights were off, so she figured no one was home.
She debated calling Ethan first, but in the end, something made her reach for the key and turn it. It actually opened.
So—he hadn’t changed the locks.
She pressed the light switch in the living room. All signs of some other woman had vanished. Grace had casually mentioned Ethan and Clara had broken up.
The tacky decor was gone, and even that annoying dog in the backyard had been given away.
On a low cabinet in the corner, she noticed a small table laid out with fruit and an incense burner.
No photo, no mourning ribbon, but Emma knew—it was probably a remnant of Ethan’s guilt.
A week had passed. Her injuries had mostly healed, though the planned overseas trip
