A figure stood outside. For a fleeting, delusional second, he actually thought Eliza had taken pity on him and come downstairs.
Zander blinked hard, his vision taking several seconds to focus on the person standing there.
It was a middle-aged security guard in uniform, shining a flashlight directly into his face.
"Sir," the guard said, his tone less than friendly.
"This is a residential complex. You can't park in the visitor spots indefinitely. If you don't live here, please move your vehicle."
Zander looked absolutely wrecked.
His face was covered in stubble, his eyes completely bloodshot, his lips cracked and peeling. The windbreaker was balled up on the passenger seat, and the gray sweater was stained with whatever dirt he had leaned against yesterday.
"...Got it," he rasped, his throat so raw he could barely make a sound.
The guard eyed him suspiciously, but didn't push the issue, turning around and walking away.
Zander adjusted his seat back into position, unscrewed a bottle of water that had been sitting out all night, and chugged a couple of mouthfuls. The water was ice-cold and tasted like cheap plastic.
He picked up his phone.
Six unread messages.
The first four were from Yvonne.
[Zander, why aren't you home yet? Are you stuck at work?]
[Zander, where are you? Mom is asking.]
[Zander, I have a prenatal checkup today, can you come with me?]
[Zander, my stomach feels a bit off, what time will you be home?]
The fifth was from Eleanor, sent in the middle of the night.
He clicked it open.
[Tomorrow is the final day. If you don't go, I'll go do it for you. Figure it out yourself.]
The sixth was also from Eleanor, sent just three minutes ago.
[Call me back!]
Zander stared at the screen for five seconds before dialing her number.


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