As the months passed, life became more normal.

I worked as a barista in a coffee shop, and even though I was bad at my job, the manager didn’t fire me. My salary wasn’t much, but it was enough to cover half the rent, along with food and utilities.

I never officially asked if I could be her roommate. It was just unspoken. After being apart from each other for so long, I couldn’t imagine us wanting to be apart ever again. Raven went on a few dates, but I didn’t.

It just…didn’t feel right.

I thought about him often, wondering if someone had replaced me in his bed, if he was back to his French whores.

I wondered if he still thought about me. Often. Occasionally. Or not at all.

I expected retribution for what we’d done, but as the weeks trickled by, I started to wonder if it was really over. The camp was destroyed. The girls were free. It was too much work to start the business up again, so they must have chosen to retire.

I couldn’t picture a man like Fender retiring.

Raven walked through the door after work, carrying a bag of takeout. “Hungry?”

No. “Sure.” I left the couch and joined her at the kitchen island. We grabbed utensils and napkins then ate across from each other. “So, how’d your date go the other night?” We lived together, but there were times when we didn’t see each other because of our work schedules.

She shrugged. “Eh.”

“Eh doesn’t sound good.”

“There was just no chemistry.” She sliced her fork into the lasagna and scooped it into her mouth.

I pushed my food around with my fork, still missing the food from the palace even though I’d left months ago. Food never tasted as good. Wine was never strong enough. My bed was never warm. Arousal was never the same either. Attractive men hit on me at the café all the time, but their numbers were always tossed into the wastebin.

“You haven’t dated at all.” She took a bite then watched me as she chewed.

Like a deer in the headlights, I froze. Accusation blanketed me, like she was trying to make a point. My eyes moved down to my food, and I sliced my fork through the layers of pasta, sauce, and cheese. “Yeah, I…” My voice drifted away when I heard the sound of heavy footfall against the hardwood in the hallway.

Raven turned at the sound, the noise immediately triggering the same memories that jumped into my mind. Even though we had been in different cabins, we’d experienced the same terror, the sound of those heavy boots approaching the front door.

I held my breath and waited for the boots to move past our door.

But they stopped right outside, the shadow of the feet visible in the crack underneath the door.