He holds out the jacket to me.
His eyes are steady, a heavy deep green, as if he has gathered up every conversation we’ve had in the past two years, every tear dropped, every text sent in the midnight hours, every moment shared that will forever be seared into both our memories and is now relaying all of it in his eyes. Saying with them, Trust me. You may not like me in this moment, but TRUST ME.
Well.
That trust is gone now.
And I rip my eyes from his, leaving him standing at the corner, holding the jacket out for me.
“Goodbye, Jack,” I call over my shoulder, and I begin to run. Run like my life depends on it. Across the street. Around the corner.
And out of his life forever.
Chapter 21
Yun Hee: Teacher sorry to disturb you
Bryony: You have not disturbed me at all. What is up?
Yun Hee: I am gone
Bryony: Gone? Gone . . . how?
Yun Hee: Not there
Bryony: In Florence? Are you . . . wanting to be gone? Want gone?
Yun Hee: No
Bryony: Lost?
Yun Hee: Yes. Or yessssssssssssss
Bryony: One “yes” is perfect. No problem. I can help you. What street are you on?
Yun Hee: No street I am on train in New York City
Bryony: What?! Okay. Which train?
Yun Hee: A rapid-transit system. The MTA New York City Transit
Bryony: Yes. The subway. Do you know the letter of the train you are on?
Yun Hee: 2
Bryony: Letter
Yun Hee: A
Bryony: And do you see a name going across the screen?
Yun Hee: NO SMOKING
Bryony: Name of a street?
Yun Hee: NO WEAPONS ALLOWED
Bryony: Nope. Other long, digital name of next stop? Look up. Look. Up.