Jukai

Chapter 30 What's that

terry Richmond

Sitting in my car, I wasn't sure about any of this. Why was Benjamin holding back information about Nicole? Why couldn't he tell me the truth? I needed answers.

I needed closure. My life felt like it had come to a stop, frozen in uncertainty.

Sighing, I stepped out of the car and made my way into Target.

It wasn't far from the hotel I was staying at—just a ten-minute drive—but right now, I needed the distraction.

Grabbing a cart, I wandered down the aisles, my mind tangled in Benjamin's words.

I kept replaying them, searching for meaning, for something I might've missed. But no matter how hard I tried, it didn't add up.

If he knew Nicole was gone, why couldn't he just say it?

I pushed the cart absentmindedly, my eyes skimming over shelves without really seeing anything.

I wasn't sure what I was looking for—maybe nothing. Maybe just something to pull me out of my head.

I grabbed a few snacks, something easy for the drive back. I wasn't hungry, but it felt like the right thing to do.

Picking up a few essentials—men's deodorant, a fresh T-shirt, a pack of socks. Small, familiar things, little pieces of normalcy. If everything else felt out of control, at least I could have this.

I guess I could pick up a few more T-shirts since Benjamin texted me and invited me to dinner. Maybe tomorrow night, I'll finally get the answers I've been searching for... something—anything—to keep me from feeling like I'm losing my mind.

As I walked, my fingers brushed against different fabrics and bottles, the motion oddly grounding.

Something calming about shopping, as if picking out toothpaste and travel-sized toiletries could somehow make things feel less chaotic.

Just as I turned down another aisle, my phone rang. My mother.

"Hey, Mama," I answered, knowing she'd hear the exhaustion in my voice.

"Terry, honey, I'm just calling to check on you. We're worried," she said softly.

I sighed, stopping in the middle of the aisle and leaning against the cart. "Yeah, I know. I'm good, Mama."

"Terry... when are you coming home?"

I closed my eyes for a second. "Mama, you know I'm looking for answers."

"I know, baby. But this is getting out of hand," she said, and I could hear the sadness in her voice.

I swallowed the lump in my throat. "Mama, I gotta go. I'll call you tomorrow, okay? Love you."

I hung up before she could respond. I wasn't in the mood for this conversation. I didn't want to talk about it.

And then—it hit me.

That smell.

It was familiar, achingly so, but I couldn't place it right away.

It wrapped around me, tugging at something deep in my memory, something half-forgotten but never really gone.

I hesitated, my grip tightening on the cart. Without thinking, I started following it. Pushing forward, the scent grew stronger.

A strange mix of anticipation and unease settled in my chest.

What was it? And why did it feel like it was pulling me toward something I wasn't ready to face?

I wove through the aisles, searching, my heart pounding. It was here, somewhere. I could feel it. The scent lingered, teasing me, just out of reach. And then—