The Year I Stopped Being His novel Chapter 540

It was the coldest time of the year.

A heavy snowstorm had raged through the night and showed no signs of stopping by morning. Thick, cotton-like flakes plummeted endlessly from the overcast sky, wrapping the entire city in a suffocating, silent blanket of white.

Riverdale University was on winter break. Inside Sloane's rented apartment at Emerald Grove, a warm yellow desk lamp cast a soft glow. Wrapped in a thick fleece blanket, she was curled up on the couch with a book. A small space heater at her feet bathed her profile in a cozy red light.

The wind howled fiercely outside, rattling the worn window frames.

Just then, the intercom buzzed loudly.

Though Sloane's apartment complex was older, the management was reliable, and every building entrance was equipped with a video intercom system.

She set her book down, walked to the door, and picked up the receiver.

The screen flickered to life. The dim, motion-sensor light in the stairwell illuminated a figure standing outside. He was wearing a dark gray coat, his shoulders dusted with a layer of unmelted snow. His hair was windblown and disheveled, and his face was so ghastly pale it practically blended into the wall behind him.

He was slightly hunched over. His left hand was strapped into a black wrist brace, while his right hand leaned heavily against the doorframe. His shallow breaths materialized into thick white plumes in the freezing air.

It was Garrison.

Sloane took a half-step back. She didn't open the door. Instead, she spoke directly into the receiver.

"Dr. Foster, what do you want?"

Garrison's voice filtered through the speaker, hoarse and low, carrying a faint tremor that sounded soaked to the bone in frost.

"Sloane, I've been trying to reach you for days. Why won't you answer my calls? Why won't you text me back?"

"I didn't see the point."