By 5:30, I was still pacing our apartment, hair thrown into a bun after running frustrated hands through it too many times. My phone remained silent, its blank screen mocking my earlier confidence.

"He's not coming," I finally admitted aloud.

Maya looked up from her textbook. "Maybe the driver is just running late?"

"Six hours late?" I laughed bitterly. "No. He... dumped me."

"You could just go to the Hayes building," Edmund suggested from our tiny kitchen where he was making tea. "Show up ...