The morning the alcohol finally loosened its grip on her skull, the first thing she noticed was the scent of expensive soap on hotel sheets that were far too white to belong to her life

hand.

“Call it destiny. Do not try to find me.”

Elena stared until the words blurred. She was a third-year student at Pacific Coast University, a girl from a small farming town in New Mexico whose parents worked the land until their hands split open just to keep her tuition paid.

She lived on instant noodles, library coffee, and pride. Even then, she continue reading …