The elevator door opens. I walk down the hallway. My coat's still damp from the cold outside. The drink in my hand has gone warm. I can still taste the faint sweetness of it on my tongue—strawberry cafe syrup and regret.
The hallway light hums low, casting shadows on the walls. I blink slowly, shoes still on, the scent of this place hitting me like a memory I'm not ready for. I look down at the cup again. My name's written on the side in black marker—Cass. I haven't heard that in months. Not since ....
I sigh through my nose.
Everything about today feels like it wants to haunt me. That stupid nickname. That stupid face Louise made—that soft, slanted look like I broke something precious inside him. And maybe I did.
