Emmalee

Romain takes my hand, his grip firm yet urgent, and leads me to his room. Without a word, he begins packing as soon as we get there, his movements quick and deliberate, as though time itself is chasing him.

I don't have to pack because I brought a bag with some belongings and all the money I have two days ago. It's under his bed right now. I watch him move around the room efficiently, a crease between his brows.

My own heart is still beating fast, but I'm more hopeful this time around. ...