Chapter 8 - The Meter Was Already Running
I stood just outside the lobby doors with the night air pressing cold against my sleeves, and my phone felt heavier than it should have in my hand. The glass reflected me back in pieces, white lace and bare skin and a veil that wouldn't sit right anymore.
Mom's contact was open on my screen. I stared at her name until it blurred. If I called her now, she'd hear it in my breathing before I said a word. She'd ask where Daniel was. She'd ask if I was safe. She'd tell me to come home, and part of me wanted someone to say that so I wouldn't have to decide it myself.
I pressed my thumb against the side of the phone and didn't hit call. Not yet. If I told her, it would become real outside this hotel. Right now it was still just between me and the night.
A taxi pulled up to the curb and idled, exhaust curling white in the headlights. The driver leaned over to look at me through the passenger window. Middle-aged, ball cap low, dispatch radio crackling on his dash.
"You need a ride?" he asked.
I swallowed. "I need the driver who just took a man from here. Black suit. Short dark hair. About ten minutes ago."
He shook his head. "That wasn't me. You'd have to call dispatch. They'll know who got the pickup."
I nodded and stepped back under the overhang so the wind wouldn't take my veil. My fingers were shaking when I dialed the number on the taxi card taped to the lobby door. A woman answered on the second ring, tired and flat.
"Downtown pickup, the hotel suite entrance," I said. "A man left alone a few minutes ago. I need the same driver."
There was a pause, keys clicking. "You trying to catch him?"
"Yes," I said. It came out quieter than I meant.
She put me on hold. Music played, thin and tinny. Behind me, the lobby doors hissed open and closed. I kept my back to them. I didn't want anyone asking if I needed help.
"Car fourteen," the dispatcher said, coming back. "He's still close. I'll send him around."
I ended the call and stared down at my empty left hand. The skin where the ring had been looked paler, a thin unlined band. I curled my fingers in to hide it.
When the second taxi rounded the corner, my chest tightened. The driver rolled his window down. He was younger than the first one, maybe forty, with a short beard and a jacket zipped to his chin.
"You the one asking about my last fare?" he asked.
"Was he—" My voice caught. I cleared it. "Black suit, white shirt. Did he say where he was going?"
The man studied my dress for a second too long, then looked back at the road. "Get in first. It's cold."
I gathered the skirt of my gown and slid into the back seat. Lace caught on the door latch and I had to tug it free. The inside smelled like coffee and vinyl cleaner. The meter was already running.
"County hospital," he said before I could speak. "That's where I took him. Didn't give a building. Just said county hospital."
My breath left me. "Did he say why?"
The driver pulled away from the curb, checking his mirror. "Nah. He was quiet. Sat right where you're sitting. Held his phone the whole time like he was waiting for it to ring. Didn't look up until we got to the lot."
I pressed my hand against the window. The glass was cold. The city lights smeared past in blue and yellow as we turned onto the main road.
"He didn't say a name?" I asked. "Emily? Did he say Emily?"
The driver glanced at me in the rearview. "No. He didn't say anything at all after the address."
I looked down at my phone again. Mom's name was still there at the top of my recents. For a second I imagined her kitchen light on, the coffeemaker humming, her voice telling me to stay put and she'd come get me. It would be so easy to turn the taxi around. Go back upstairs. Lock the suite door. Wait until morning in the warm dim room with the blue window light and pretend this was a misunderstanding.
The taxi stopped at a red light. The hospital was marked on the GPS now, fourteen minutes out. The dispatcher crackled something I couldn't make out.
"Miss?" the driver said. "You want me to take you there, or back around? I can loop you back to the entrance if you changed your mind."
I looked at the empty finger on my left hand, then at the road ahead stretching dark toward the edge of downtown. I thought about the ring sitting on the dark wood upstairs, and the suitcase by the doorway, and Daniel walking away without turning all the way around.
May you like
"Take me there," I said. "To the hospital."
He nodded and hit the gas when the light changed. I leaned back against the seat and watched the city move past, my veil trembling each time we hit a bump, my dress taking up the whole seat beside me like someone else was sitting there.
