Lyvana paused, remembering the headlines that would come months from now, how the place would hit it big time and it would become a celebrity joint.
"Really?" Lyvana said, keeping her voice light. "Why don't we go tomorrow and check it out?"
Emily glanced at her. "Since when are you interested in clubbing?"
Lyvana shrugged and looked out the window.
"People change," she said quietly.
Emily snorted. "Overnight?"
Lyvana smiled. "Maybe I'm just trying new things."
"You do remember tomorrow is your engagement party with Mark?"
Her heart skipped a beat at the mention of Mark.
"I'm not marrying him."
Emily nearly swerved off the road. "I'm sorry, what?"
"I found out who Mark really is, and I won't marry him," Lyvana said softly.
"Liv, the engagement is tomorrow. Everything's been planned for months—"
"I don't care. I'm not doing it."
Emily stared at her, searching for some hint of a joke.
"Girl… are you saying you don't want your inheritance anymore?"
Lyvana turned toward her.
"What do you mean?"
Emily gave a short, incredulous laugh, as if Lyvana had just forgotten the sky was blue.
"Don't tell me you've actually forgotten."
Of course, her trust fund. She had forgotten about that part.
"What's up with you today. Did you hit your head or something?" Emily asked, shooting her a sideways look.
She turned onto their street and slowed to a stop in front of an elegant apartment building.
"If you're planning on calling off the engagement," Emily said, "you'd better have a backup plan. Because walking away from Mark means walking away from that money. You know exactly how much we're talking about. Enough to save your company which means so much to you."
Emily opened the door, then turned.
"And don't forget," she added, one foot on the pavement, "you're not the only one circling that fortune. Your mother and her husband would tear you apart to get their hands on it."
The door shut.
Emily was right. The money could save her late mother's fashion house which she manages.
But it would come at a price.
Lyvana reached for the door handle, eager to escape the claustrophobic air inside the car.
The two of them pushed through the glass doors, the doorman giving them both a knowing nod.
In the elevator, she eyed Lyvana. "You're doing that thing again."
"What thing?" Lyvana asked, pressing her back to the wall.
"The quiet, I'm-fine-but-clearly-not-fine thing."
Lyvana let out a small laugh despite herself.
"Okay… you're officially freaking me out," Emily said, studying her face. "What, did you see at the police station, a ghost?"
"Something like that," Lyvana murmured stepping out of the elevator.
Emily unlocked the door, and they stepped into their apartment.
It was bright and expensive-looking, but still very girly. It had soft colors and cute furniture, neatly arranged. The big windows showed the city below.
It didn't feel like a student apartment at all. That's because Emily's father was a real estate agent. When they had been accepted into college, he had helped them get the place. It was his way of making sure his daughter was comfortable and safe.
"The truth is… I hit my head pretty bad on the wall," Lyvana admitted quietly. "I think I have a concussion or something."
"Oh, babe… come here."
She opened her arms, and Lyvana stepped into her embrace without hesitation.
In her old life, losing Emily had felt like losing a piece of herself. Now, feeling her warmth again, she wasn't ready to let go.
Just then, Emily's phone rang.
"Shoot, it's my dad," she said, glancing at the screen. "I have to go, he needs me for that thing I told you about."
She flashed Lyvana a small smile.
"Now go shower. You look like you've wrestled three demons... and a bus. Make sure you eat and I'll see you in the morning."
Lyvana managed a faint smile and slipped into her room. She closed the door quietly and leaned back against it, letting the silence settle over her.
Her old room looked exactly as she remembered: soft pinks, warm golds, a few shelves crowded with books she loved and never finished.
It felt like stepping into her own past. It was comforting and terrifying all at once.
She undressed slowly, her thoughts still heavy.
As she pulled off her dress, her phone slipped from her pocket and landed softly on the bed.
She picked it up.
There were several messages from her grandmother about the engagement party.
Then one other message from Mark.
Her fingers hesitated before she opened it.
Hon, I won't be available tonight.
I have a late night meeting.
Txt tomorrow.
A red heart sat at the end of the message.
Lyvana stared at the screen and her stomach twisted.
A late-night meeting? She knew better now. He was with Clarisse. There was no doubt about it.
For a brief moment, she thought about going to his house. Then she shook her head and pushed the thought away. She didn't want to see them fucking each other.
Then a silly idea came to her.
She went through her closet and picked a dress that wasn't too revealing. She put it on, tied her hair into a simple ponytail, and didn't even look in the mirror.
She grabbed her keys and went outside.
Her small Toyota Corolla was parked in the garage. She got in and drove off.
She needed a drink.
Even though it hadn't happened yet, her heart already felt broken. And in another life, she had just been betrayed… and murdered.
She pulled up outside the new club with warm lights glowing through the windows.
It wasn't loud.
It wasn't wild.
Just calm enough.
Lyvana parked, stepped out, and took a deep breath before going in.
Inside, soft music played in the background. She chose a seat at the bar and sat down. There weren't as many people as she thought which calmed her a bit.
"What can I get you?" the bartender asked.
"Something strong," Lyvana said. "But simple."
He nodded and went to work. Before long, a glass slid toward her. She wrapped her fingers around it, lifted it slowly, and took a sip.