The 18th Shade Of Summer (Fractured Script Series #1)

CHAPTER 30

I woke up to the sound of Hansel barking loud outside. The sky burned in a shade of orange that tricked me into thinking it was sunrise. But when I turned to check the time on my phone, the truth hit me.

5:52 PM.
Not morning but evening and I had no idea when I'd fallen asleep.

My body felt heavy—like sleep had dragged me down to the floor of a dream I couldn't remember escaping. I was still in the oversized shirt, its hem carelessly tucked into the waistband of my shorts.

I pushed open the door and stepped outside, the breeze brushing my skin with the kind of gentleness. Hansel had gone quiet. The air felt different wrong somehow.

I crossed to Akiro's apartment and knocked once.

No answer.

I knocked again louder this time, the sound of my fist thudding against wood cutting into the still air.

"Akiro?" I called out.

Still nothing.

My chest tightened as I turned the knob.

The door creaked open slowly. The living room was too dim for this time of day and it was empty. Utterly still, but not in a way that felt peaceful. It felt... left.

My eyes landed on the table.

The headset was there. The one I gave him. Placed neatly.

No.

I rushed to the bedroom door and pushed it open, my breath catching, hoping and begging that he was there, maybe just asleep. But the bed was untouched. The blanket folded. Everything too clean.

He's not here.

Panic gripped me like a hand around my throat. I turned back, grabbed the headset from the table with shaking hands, shoved my feet into my slippers, and ran out into the dusk.

My mind was shouting things I didn't want to believe or couldn't believe yet. Not unless I saw it myself.

The street was dim now, the lights starting to flicker on, one by one—each one a reminder that time was running forward, mercilessly, without pause.

I ran past the waiting shed.

Empty. Only the flickering light of the vending machine was there

I ran toward the fountain where we once stood, where laughter had echoed back at us from the water's edge.

There no trace of him.

Just wind.

Just stone.

My chest was pounding, my lungs burned and my legs ached, but I didn't stop.

"Please," I whispered. "Please be there."

I ran toward the riverbank.

My last hope.

The place that always seemed to hold us gently.

I scanned the path.

I scanned the water.

The bench.

Empty.

No figure sitting there. No footsteps. Not even a trace.

Gone.

The word pressed itself against my ribs like a blade.

I stood there, frozen. And the weight of the knowing and not-knowing crashed into me all at once.