The rain followed me like a curse. It streaked down the windshield, blurring the world into long, trembling lines of gray and gold. The sea roared on my right, crashing against the cliffs like it wanted to swallow the world. Every few seconds, lightning tore the sky open, showing me a ghost of my own reflection — pale face, tired eyes, trembling lips.
I hadn't slept. Not since I saw him. Not since that fleeting second when I caught Rafael's silhouette standing near the harbor. The black coat, the way his shoulders tensed when the wind hit him, the way he turned slightly, like he knew I was there.
And then he disappeared.
I gripped the steering wheel so tightly my knuckles went white. "You're not dead," I whispered into the empty car. "You can't be."
But if he wasn't dead, then why had he left me? Why leave a note that said don't follow when he knew I would burn the world just to find him?
