The grief instantly turned into panic.
I grabbed my keys and drove off without thinking. My hands were shaking so badly I almost missed the turn. Logic haunted me the whole time—a delay, a mistake, a system malfunction—something trivial and explainable that would set the world right again. I carried her photo on my phone like a talisman, proof that none of this could be real.
I spoke too quickly in the rental office. The employee listened with polite detachment, as one does when preparing an apology for a mistake.
Then I showed him her photo.
Not a shock – something worse. Realization.
His gaze lingered on the screen for a moment too long. He slowly leaned back, glanced at the office door behind him, and then looked at me again. His voice trailed off.
“This woman was here.”
The words failed to reach their destination. They floated around, detached from any meaning.
