Chapter 2: Gone Without Goodbye

Who would’ve thought that once he left, he’d be gone for more than half a year?

The days stretched out. Each one heavier than the last. I watched the mailbox, listened for the phone, hoping for a sign. The house grew quieter, my world shrinking to the tick of the clock and the echo of his last words.

People in town started whispering—maybe he’d found fortune and abandoned me.

Maple Heights was a small town, and rumors traveled fast. I could feel their eyes on me at the grocery store, their pitying smiles at Sunday service. I kept my chin up, refusing to let them see how much it hurt.

I thought, what’s going on here? If he’s alive, I want to see him; if he’s dead, I want proof. If he betrayed me, I’d put him in the ground myself. And if he’s really gone, I’ll find myself a new husband. No use sitting around, after all.

I wasn’t the type to pine away forever. Life was too short, and I’d learned long ago not to wait for anyone.

I spent over a month in New York searching for Michael Sterling, but found nothing.

The city was a maze of neon and shadows, every corner hiding a secret. I pounded the pavement, asked questions in smoky bars. Flashed his photo in diners and subway stations. Nothing. It was like he’d vanished into thin air.

With no other choice, I turned to the Nightshade Syndicate for help.

I slipped back into old habits, using contacts I’d sworn I’d never call again. The Syndicate owed me favors. I wasn’t above cashing them in.

Soon, I received a note: “Magnolia Lounge, Penthouse Suite.”

The handwriting was elegant, the paper thick and expensive. It smelled faintly of cigars and old money. Old money, and then some.

Ha, did Michael Sterling fall so low he’s bussing tables at a jazz bar?

I snorted, imagining him in a cheap vest, wiping down sticky tables. Somehow, I doubted it. Still, the thought made me smile.

I snuck into the lounge and hid in the room next to the Penthouse Suite.

The Magnolia was all velvet and brass, the kind of place where the music never stopped and the secrets were worth more than the drinks. I slipped through the back halls. Found the perfect spot to watch and wait.

This was Syndicate territory—I knew it inside and out.

Every hidden door. Every blind corner. I’d mapped them all in my head years ago. It felt strange, coming back here as both hunter and hunted.