Page 5 of The Perfect Heart

This brought a small smile to my face, even though I kept my new job to myself. “I will. I promise.”

“Good.” Another hesitation and another small sigh as Mom hesitated to hang up. “Just take care of yourself, Halle, okay? Promise you’ll call me if you need anything? Day or night.”

“I promise. Good night, Mom.”

I hung up first, knowing the phone call wouldn’t end if I let her choose, and then tried to get out of the chair. The prospect seemed daunting, and I half-considered falling asleep at the table. But I was getting too cold with the window open.

Hauling myself up, I managed to trudge to the window, shut it, and slip out of my shoes, cringing at the bloody mess of bruises and blisters my feet had become. They still hurt, and I limped across the floor to fall into bed. I didn’t even bother removing the coat—it was too cold, anyway. I fell asleep to the smell of dust and a faint scent from Nash’s hat, one I remembered well, one that sent a swirl of warmth through me as I slipped into sleep.

Chapter 3

Halle

HOW FAR DID I HAVE to go?

The sidewalk under my feet wouldn’t end, my running footsteps echoing against the shuttered buildings. My breath came in ragged gasps, my heart pounding blood that rushed in my ears—I couldn’t remember the last time I had run this far. Maybe the high school track team? But I wasn’t running for a place on the team or a medal at the end of the meet.

How much farther could I go? How much longer could I run? My legs were cramping, the stitch in my side was becoming unbearable, and my lungs burned with fire.

But I couldn’t stop. I had to keep going, one foot in front of the other.

Just one more step. Then one more. And another after that.

The echoes of my running footsteps multiplied, bouncing off more buildings as I cut down an alley—it was a gamble, it was dark, and I was alone, but I hoped it would throw anyone off my trail. But were they my footsteps, or had someone caught up with me?

I risked a glance over my shoulder. But I missed a box that had fallen out of a dumpster, and it sent me sprawling to the ground. The impact shoved what little air I had from my lungs, and fire instantly exploded in my knees. My purse, which I had held clutched to me, fell from my arms, the contents scattering across the pavement.

Gasping, trying to draw breath back into my stunned lungs, I crawled to my knees, frantically gathering the items. But my hands shook so severely they were difficult to grasp, and I dropped several before scrambling to my feet.

I took off running again, slower this time, in more pain, my knees pulsing with fire at every step, my lungs still laboring to gain back lost breath.

Bright lights at the end of the alley and the bus station loomed ahead, blurring as tears filled my eyes—I had made it.

“You can’t run from me forever, Hal. I’ll find you.”

The slurred words echoed from everywhere and nowhere, and I nearly fell again, looking wildly around for the source. But no one emerged from the shadows, no hand snaked around my wrist, fingers digging into tendons until I yielded.

My heart still pounded in my chest from my marathon run, the blood rushing in my ears, my breathing raspy enough to draw glances as I moved down the aisle to my seat. The voice followed me as I sat down, shivering as I looked out the window, and the bus north took off with a gasp and squeal of brakes, lurching forward hard enough to send another jolt of pain through my knees.

“I’ll always find you.”

I jerked, wide awake, my heart racing. For a moment, I had no idea where I was—the ceiling, the bed, the blanket, even the pillow unfamiliar. It took sitting up and taking in the room in front of me, still dusty, still old, still mismatched.

And I had never been so grateful to be here.

I collapsed against the pillow, arms spread wide, and stared at the ceiling. Echoes of the voice followed me, clung to me, resonated around me until I had to unclench my jaw by force as pain shot across my jaw, sharp and heated.

For a moment, I considered going back to sleep. I had tossed and turned with nightmares all night, something I hadn’t counted on during my wild escape only a few days earlier, and was still drowsy as hell. But the old clock radio on the nightstand told me I had slept late thanks to my poor night’s sleep, and if I didn’t get out of bed, I would be late for my first day of work.

And, anyway, lingering in bed, falling asleep only to relive that night repeatedly, wouldn’t help anything.

Instead, I swung my legs over the side of the bed and forced myself to my feet. Brushing my teeth as I moved around the room, I pulled out my finds from the thrift store the day before.

I hadn’t grown up with a lot of money, and thrifting had been the way I had kept my closet and wardrobe fresh and trendy. It had, in fact, inspired my love of design and fashion.

It had been a long time since I had set foot inside a thrift store, but I had found a few good pieces. At least enough to get me through until I had earned and saved enough money to go again.

I hoped, anyway.