To Be Continued...

NINETEEN

I stopped searching for her the day I uncovered Scarlett’s plotting. Since then, I’d lost all hope of finding peace or happiness in my life again. No matter how hard I tried to guard it, Scarlett always seemed poised to destroy it. Even if she stopped trying, Sherman—who had every bit of me from the past four years—might one day use it against me.

“Forget it, Nicolas,” I told myself. “You’re not finding peace.” The voice of the girl from the Robbs had faded from my memory. No one else would ever enter my life now. I’d grown disillusioned, realizing that even friends could be bought and sold. I had hoped to start anew in Portsmouth, to forget and forgive my past, but the shadows of that past followed me relentlessly. I tried to start fresh, to distance myself from everything that had happened, but somehow, I always failed.

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay here?” Debbie asked, her voice tinged with concern as she stood behind me. I was puzzled by her reaction. We had only been together for a week, and I thought things might be different this time. Yet, despite her beauty, there was no spark in her—nothing that could make me lose myself in it. Debbie had tried to help, but her efforts had fallen short. I didn’t mean to be cruel, but the truth was that her presence lacked the depth and warmth I needed.

Her voice, once a soothing balm to my frayed nerves, had now become a blurred memory. For a month, it had lingered in my mind, but during the past week with Cristina, it had vanished. I hated to admit it, but I wanted to recall it, to find that peace again. Despite my best efforts, I couldn’t seem to find her or her voice. Maybe she was too far beyond my reach, too different from me.

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**November 1**

Today was critical. My interview for English Language and Communication—or Journalism, depending on how it went—was scheduled. I had already missed one opportunity because of Cristina—or perhaps Scarlett. I needed to make the most of this one.

The class had started online due to the pandemic. It was tedious, endlessly boring. As I scrolled through Instagram, I suddenly heard it—the voice. After months of searching, it was like a beacon in the dark. The moment her interview began, her soothing voice melted my heart once more. It was as if her words were a balm to my soul, filling me with a calm I hadn’t felt in ages.

I closed my eyes as she spoke, imagining her face, but of course, I couldn’t see it. I could only listen, and with every word, her voice grew clearer in my mind. It was as though a plant, parched for so long, had finally been given water. I felt rejuvenated.

“Okay, Miss,” the coordinator said from behind the camera, “we’ve heard a lot about you, but we’d like to see you now.”

I frantically scrolled through the list of candidates, determined not to miss her face. I needed to see her, to match the voice with the face. After combing through all sixty candidates twice, I finally found her. The moment she spoke, my heart leapt. It was her. The voice that had haunted my dreams was now in front of me, and I knew that this time, I had to seize the opportunity.