I honestly believed I'd be able to meet you today.
"I can't explain the rest in a letter. Behind the clock is a box."
I looked behind the stone base. There was a small wooden box.
Inside was a key and an address. 18 4th Street.
Apartment 2B.
I stared at it. This was officially absurd.
But now I wasn't angry. I was scared.
The address was only three blocks away.
The building was old brick with narrow stairs.
I climbed to the second floor and stopped outside 2B.
I could have used the key.
Instead, I knocked. "Adrian?"
Nothing.
I knocked harder. "Adrian?"
Still nothing.
My chest tightened.
Finally, I used the key. The apartment was quiet.
There were books stacked beside the couch.
A mug in the sink. A cane leaning against the wall.
That stopped me.
On the coffee table was a photograph. Adrian stood beside a woman.
He looked thinner than I remembered. His smile was the same.
Mostly.
One side of his face seemed slightly different.
"Emily?"
I spun around.
A woman stood behind me.
She looked enough like Adrian that I knew immediately.
"Sophie?"
She smiled faintly. "Yeah."
"Where is he?"
Her expression changed. "He's here."
I stared at her. "Then why am I talking to you?"
She glanced toward the hallway. "Because he's nervous."
"Nervous?"
"Terrified, actually."
"Of me?"
