Bound by Shadows

20

I sat in the cramped cubicle, my patience wearing thin as I waited for what felt like an eternity. Suddenly, the sound of footsteps echoed through the bathroom, stirring hope within me. "Hello?" I called out tentatively, my voice wavering with desperation. "Could you please help me? The door is stuck!"

To my relief, a voice responded, "Sure, I'll see what I can do." Moments later, the door creaked open, flooding the dim space with light. Blinking in the sudden brightness, I squinted up at my rescuer.

Her high cheekbones gracefully frame her face, while her slender nose adds a touch of refinement. But it's her eyes that truly stand out – large, almond-shaped, and framed by long lashes, they seem to hold a universe of emotions within them. Her lips, softly curved, lend a hint of sensuality to her overall appearance.

"Thank you so much!" I said gratefully, pushing myself up from the toilet seat. "I don't know what I would have done without you."

She smiled. "No problem at all, Zanya. I'm just glad I could help."

I furrowed my brow, trying to place her face. "Wait, do I know you?"

She chuckled softly, shaking her head. "We studied Fine arts together at Cornell. I'm Phoebe Maxwell, remember?"

"I'm sorry," I confessed, feeling my cheeks flush with embarrassment. "Some memories are harder for me to recall." Pausing, I decided to share a glimpse of my situation, "There was an accident," I explained, my voice trailing off uncertainly.

She absorbed the information with understanding as we left the restroom, rejoining the bustling crowd. "So you've lost all your memories?" she asked.

I nodded, lips pressed together.

"Hey, Zanya, since you're here, why don't we head upstairs? I have some old class photos from our time at Cornell that you might find interesting," she suggested.

I smiled at the idea, "That sounds like a great plan. Lead the way."

Navigating effortlessly through the crowded nightclub, Phoebe guided me to the staircase leading to the exclusive VIP section she had reserved, just a few tables away from ours. She led me to a secluded corner and showed me photos on her phone.

"These are from our Fine Arts class," Phoebe explained, handing me her phone.

As I swiped through the images, a wave of nostalgia washed over me. In one photo, Phoebe looked completely different, sporting baggy clothes and jet black hair, a stark contrast to her current appearance with blonde hair tied back neatly.

Searching for my own face in the pictures, I noticed myself flanked by two women, their arms around my waist. A heavy feeling settled in my chest. "Who are they?"

Phoebe gestured towards the women in the photo, "Your best friends. That's Quinn," she pointed to the woman with hot pink hair, "And this is Hailey," indicating the elegant woman to the right.

"Do you have their numbers? I should reach out to them," I said, feeling a sense of urgency.

Phoebe ordered a drink and then glanced at the photo, "Quinn's number I can provide. But Hailey..." Her voice trailed off.

"Do you have Hailey's number?" I pressed, sensing Phoebe's reluctance.

Taking a sip of her drink, Phoebe's expression turned sympathetic, "Hailey...she's no longer with us. She took her own life a few months ago."

I felt my breath catch at the news, stunned into silence.

"I met Quinn at Hailey's funeral," Phoebe continued, "But you were nowhere to be found. No one knew where you were. Rumor had it you got married and disappeared," she added, turning her attention back to the crowd below.

"She left a suicide note," Phoebe explained softly, "Quinn took it hard."

I struggled to find the right words, feeling like a ghost in the midst of the conversation.

"I... I had no idea," I managed to stammer out, my voice barely above a whisper.

Phoebe placed a comforting hand on my shoulder, her eyes reflecting the weight of the conversation. "It was a difficult time for everyone," she murmured, her tone filled with empathy.

Taking a deep breath, I tried to push aside the overwhelming flood of emotions threatening to consume me. "I need to reach out to Quinn," I said, determination seeping into my voice.

Phoebe nodded in understanding, her gaze softening. "I'll send you her number," she promised, reaching for her phone.

As she typed out the message, I couldn't shake the feeling of guilt that washed over me. How could I have been so absent during such a crucial moment in Quinn and Hailey's lives? The weight of my forgotten past bore down on me, leaving me feeling hollow and lost just as I was about to leave it all behind me.

When Phoebe handed me her phone with Quinn's contact information, I expressed my gratitude with a warm smile. "Thank you, Phoebe. You have no idea—"

"Where have you been?" Stella's interruption was sharp, accompanied by Tadashi's drunken antics as he stumbled closer, his gaze fixed on Phoebe.

"New friend, Zanya? Why didn't you tell me you're friends with this beautiful lady?" Tadashi's attempt at charm was met with Phoebe's indifferent gaze.

Phoebe turned to me, a soft smile gracing her features. "Call me anytime if you need me," she said before gracefully excusing herself, brushing past Stella who clearly disapproved of my newfound acquaintance.

"You aren't allowed to give your number to strangers," Stella reminded me pointedly as we made our way back to our table.

"Phoebe isn't a stranger. She's a friend from university. She showed me pictures of us together," I explained, feeling a pang of guilt for not mentioning Phoebe and my whereabouts earlier.

"You don't know that," Stella retorted skeptically. "She might be manipulating you, taking advantage of your memory loss."

"I promise you, she isn't like that," I insisted firmly, though Stella remained unconvinced.

"Hook me up with her," Tadashi interjected with a smirk, earning a playful smack on the arm from me as we all sat down. I reached for my phone to check the text from Phoebe, but Stella intercepted it, snatching my phone and screenshotting the message before sending it to herself.

"What are you doing?" I protested, feeling a surge of annoyance.

"Making sure she isn't using you," Stella replied, returning the phone to me. "It's my responsibility to ensure you're associating with the right people, both as Mr. Bianci's assistant and as your friend."

Tadashi and I exchanged bemused glances before turning back to Stella, who seemed oddly flustered by the attention. "I've never known you to be so... sentimental," Tadashi remarked, prompting Stella to clear her throat and avert her gaze, a hint of blush coloring her cheeks.

"Get lost," she retorts, flipping him off, eliciting a laugh from me. Tadashi downs another shot, sporting his trademark upside-down smile. Just then, the private room doors swing open, the four leaders emerge, exchanging handshakes.

Sumin and the elder gentleman exit the club, trailed by their bodyguards, while Caelus and Zavian head toward our table. Caelus offered me a gentle smile, but I couldn't muster one in return. He and I needed to talk and he got the message with a brow raised.

"We're crashing at Stella's tonight," Zavian announces. Stella, finally taking her first drink of the night in celebration of clocking out of work, quipped, "My place is a bit messy, hope you don't mind."