The Light We Build When the Applause of the Crowd Fades
I unlocked my car and sat in the driver’s seat, staring at the dashboard clock.
Eleven fifty-five.
My phone vibrated in my purse.
I pulled it out, expecting another angry text from my mother, or a formal notification from the bank.
Instead, it was a text from an unknown number.
*I am parked around the corner on 18th Street,* the message read. *Please come alone.*
I stared at the screen, my heart beating a little faster against my ribs.
I put the key in the ignition but didn’t turn it.
I looked out the window into the dark, foggy street, trying to see if there was anyone waiting in the shadows.
The phone lit up again with a second message from the same number.
*It is your father. I have something of yours.*
I opened the car door and stepped out into the cold night.
The fog clung to my hair as I walked toward the corner.
I walked toward the corner of 18th Street, my boots clicking against the damp pavement.
The headlights of a dark sedan flickered once in the mist.