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ome Deck, My Love
hapter 251
Elena: POV
finally agreed. Three days from now, I’d meet this mysterious client who’d insisted on seeing me personally. After all, he represented the future direction our design studio–whether we’d have the financial breathing room to expand, or continue scraping by month to month.
Does he have any specific requirements?‘ I asked Lily, keeping my voice steady despite the unease prickling at the back of my neck.
Lily shook her head, her pixie cut bouncing slightly. “They said everything will be discussed in person during the meeting.”
I nodded slowly, already feeling the weight of this decision settling onto my shoulders. The rest of the afternoon blurred info a familiar rhythm–reviewing fabric samples, adjusting pattern pieces, responding to emails from suppliers.
But beneath the surface calm, my mind kept circling back to that anonymous client and their oddly insistent terms.
By the time the office emptied and the last rays of autumn sunlight slanted through the industrial windows, I was alone. Just as I was about to leave. I knocked over a stack of sketches.
That’s when I found it.
Tucked between two mood boards, a piece of drawing paper I didn’t remember creating. The edges were slightly worn, as if it had been handled many times. folded and unfolded in moments of… what? Grief? Obsession?
I pulled it out slowly, my breath catching.
A bridge, rendered in aggressive pencil strokes. Countless cars streaming across it in blurred motion, their headlights like white–hot tears. And falling from the railing–a woman, her hair streaming upward, her body suspended in that terrible moment between letting go and impact.
The style was unmistakably mine. I recognized the cross–hatching, the way I built shadows through layers of pressure. But the subject matter… when had I
drawn this? And why?
My hands trembled as I stared at the image. Something about it felt visceral, urgent–like my subconscious had been trying to tell me something my
conscious mind refused to acknowledge.
For a while now, I’d been having a recurring dream. Always the same: a woman falling from a bridge, her scream swallowed by wind and distance. In the dream, I was both observer and partic tebing her fall while simultaneously being her, feeling the terrible freedom of that descer
That woman sho
Alexande
more
scussing my past–that I’d fallen from a bridge. That I’d been pulled from the rivet. ving me adrift in a life I couldn’t remember living.
Why did I fall?
abearable grief? Had someone pushed me, their hands violent against my back? Or was it him—Juhan, the ex-
th barely concealed contempt–was he the architect of my destruction?
nd like knotted thread, growing tighter the more I tried to unravel them. I pressed my fingers to my temples, as if I could
surface.
Chapter 251
Nothing. Just that same blank wall, smooth and impenetrable.
I folded the drawing carefully and slipped it into my bag, though I wasn’t sure why. Maybe having it close would trigger something, some fragment of the
woman I used to be.
The studio felt different now, shadows lengthening into unfamiliar shapes. I gathered my things quickly, suddenly eager to leave this place where my forgotten self had apparently been trying to communicate through pencil and paper.
My phone buzzed, making me jump. The screen lit up with a call from Lila’s kindergarten, Miss Caroline’s name displayed above the caller ID.
Odd. School had ended over an hour ago.
I answered, my voice coming out steadier than I felt. “Hello? This is Elena Hunt.”
“Ms. Hunt.” Miss Caroline’s voice was tight with barely controlled panic. “I’m so, so sorry to disturb you, but–there’s been an incident. With Lila.”
The world tilted sideways.
wark
“What kind of incident?” My voice sounded strange, distant, as if someone else were speaking.
“She’s missing. I mean–oh God, I’m so sorry. Let me explain.” Miss Caroline’s words tumbled out in a rush. After school ended, I was waiting with her at the front gate, just like always. She was holding my hand, being her usual well–behaved self, you know how she is. But then I–I needed to use the restroom urgently. It was just for a minute, maybe two at most.”
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