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Amber stepped out first, smiling. Marcus followed, and Therese came out last, practically beaming.
“We’ll take it.”
My brows lifted. “This apartment?”
Amber nodded. “Yes, Marcus and I love it.”
Therese raised her hand. “And I’ll take the third floor.”
I laughed. “Wow. Okay. That was easy.”
“Sometimes you just know,” Therese said.
Rafe squeezed my hip. “Yeah. Sometimes you do.”
Amber turned back toward the apartment. “I do have one question though. The listing said there was a washer and dryer, but I didn’t see any.”
“Oh. It’s in the basement. Everyone has access to it.”
Rafe looked at Amber and Marcus, then over at Therese. “But you could also go to the wash and fold down the block.”
Amber’s brows furrowed. “Do the machines not work well or something?”
“They work just fine.” Rafe winked at me. “But things have a way of coming out tangled when you mix loads down there.”
EPILOGUE
RAFE
THREE YEARS LATER
As the audience clapped, I filled with pride from my seat in one of the chairs the bookstore had set up. It was a smaller shop, but the room they’d prepared for the meet and greet was packed. I’d seen firsthand the blood, sweat, and tears that had gone into Talia’s writing process over the past couple of years. This week her thriller, Killerverse, had finally released. Talia’s publisher, ironically the same one she used to work for, had scheduled a small tour of bookstores around the tri-state area. Today’s was in the West Village.
“Where did you get the idea for this story?” someone asked. “It’s such an unusual concept, a poet who unknowingly creates verses that predict ominous events…”
Talia adjusted her position on the stool and spoke into the mic. “It’s hard to know where it came from. It popped into my head one night as I was getting ready to fall asleep. At the time, I wasn’t sure if it was far-fetched or the best idea anyone had ever come up with.” She laughed. “But it always stayed at the back of my mind until I came to a point in life where I could devote the time I needed to write it.”
The woman nodded. “You definitely pulled it off.”
“Thank you.” Talia smiled.
The bookstore manager moderating the questions pointed to someone in the back. Then I heard a guy’s voice. “I have a question.”
That voice sounded familiar.
Talia’s expression changed, her face going white. I turned around. Calder.
Despite promising Talia he’d keep in touch when he moved to London, Calder had not reached out to either of us in a few years, certainly not since we’d moved back to New York.
Talia cleared her throat and managed a slight smile. “Yes. What is your question?”
“Did you always know the ending to the story, or did it change over time?”
She licked her lips. “It changed several times, actually.”
He nodded. “Sometimes that happens. Things don’t work out the way you think they will.” Calder exhaled. “But what’s meant to happen always does. So you shouldn’t have any regrets about any of it.” He paused. “I know I don’t.”
She hesitated, still looking shell-shocked. “Okay.”
