Chapter One

The loud chatter in the café does nothing to disrupt the turmoil building in
Zoe’s mind. Conversations overlap, cups clink against saucers, the
espresso machine hisses like it’s letting off steam, but none of it reaches
her. It’s been a shitty week, and everything in her life feels like nothing but
chaos piled on top of chaos.

Her sister, her only sibling, came off life support two days ago, and instead
of getting better as the doctors promised, she’s been a mess and not
confused. Not groggy. Just… empty. She can’t remember a thing from her
past. Not family. Not relationships and definitely not Zoe.

Zoe still hears the doctor’s voice, calm and practiced, explaining that
memory loss can happen after trauma. The doctors promised improvement,
gradual recovery, but it's been two days, and Zara doesn’t remember
family, relationships, or even Zoe. Her sister’s vacant eyes haunt her. The
empty silence of the hospital room replays in her mind, over and over, like
a loop she can’t break.

Zoe’s impatience grows as the lone barista and the sluggish line crawl
forward at an infuriating pace. She checks the time on her phone. Ten
minutes. That’s all she has before work starts. No room for detours. No
time to make the short trip to her favorite coffee spot in Montclair, the one
that actually gets her order right and doesn’t make her feel like an
inconvenience for existing.

The smell of coffee hangs heavy in the air, rich and bitter, mixed with the
sweetness of pastries. Normally, it would calm her. Today, it just makes
her head pound harder.

“Hurry up, man! We’ve got things to do!” someone yells from the back of
the line.

(2)

Zoe exhales in relief. At least she’s not the only one losing her mind. It
saves her the trouble of flinging her purse at the barista’s head.
Finally, it's her turn. She steps forward and scans the menu like she’s
seeing it for the first time. She isn’t. She’s been here a million times over
the last five years. She knows exactly what she wants. But if the barista
wants to stop time, she’s more than happy to help him do it. Screw work
for the next five minutes.

“You’ve been flipping through that menu for about two minutes,” the barista
says, irritation slipping into his voice. “Is everything okay?”

Zoe nods slowly. “I’m just searching for the right thing. Give me a minute.”
“It’s just food, ma’am, not a life partner. I can’t give you any more minutes;
you’ve already grabbed all of them.”

Zoe glances up and smiles at him, sweet but sharp. “You wasted my time
and everyone else’s. Don’t you think I deserve a little payback?”

He looks at her like she’s dirt stuck to the bottom of his shoe. “You got
attitude.”

Zoe laughs and turns around to check the line. There’s no one there.
Either they’ve left or moved to another register. She shrugs and faces him
again.

“I’ll get a cappuccino,” she says, “and a chocolate croissant.”

The barista rolls his eyes and lets out a long, dramatic breath. “Fucking
finally.”

Three minutes later, paper cup in hand, purse tucked under her arm,
pastry bag crinkling in the other, Zoe steps back onto the busy
sidewalk—cars honk. People shove past each other. A cyclist weaves
dangerously close to her shoulder. She barely notices.

Now that the café noise is behind her and she’s alone with her thoughts,
everything comes rushing back. The hospital room. The doctor’s careful
words. Zara’s blank stare. Zoe wonders again if things would have turned
out differently if she were better at making decisions. If she knew how to
think on her feet. If she stood firmer on what she wanted instead of
constantly second-guessing herself. Alone with her thoughts, the noise
melts into the background, leaving only the questions that gnaw at her.

Thursday usually means less work and more time to mindlessly scroll
through the internet and pretend she’s productive. She checks her
reflection in the glossy elevator doors and rummages through her purse for
her lip gloss. Just as she’s about to apply it, the elevator dings and a man
steps inside. Zoe studies him through the mirrored surface. Toned muscles
are visible beneath his T-shirt. Pale blue eyes that seem sharper than
they should be. He catches her gaze. She looks away quickly, but not quickly
enlightening to miss the smirk tugging at his lips.

(3)

She shoves the lip gloss back in her bag. At five foot ten with long black
hair, she considers herself fairly plain. Not ugly, not remarkable, just
average. Decent enough that most guys wouldn’t mind her company on a
rainy night, but not someone who would stop traffic. She straightens her
shoulders, refusing to let her insecurity show.

The man, Lee Carter, studies her for a beat before checking his watch and
looking at her again. He finds her fascinating. He’s seen her around the
building a few times. Always distracted. Always lost in thought. Yet
somehow calm, like she knows where she’s going even when she doesn’t.

As a programmer, Lee builds tools to help people navigate life, apps that
organize schedules, maps that guide them home, and systems that keep
them on track. Zoe feels like someone walking without a map, and he can’t
help noticing.

The elevator stops on the tenth floor. Zoe steps out first. Lee follows,
taking a brief second to admire the way her slim figure moves, how her
body fits together in a way that feels effortless.

Zoe, completely oblivious, heads straight to her desk and drops into her
chair with a huff. She powers up her computer. While it boots, she pulls out
her lip gloss again and applies it, studying her reflection in her phone.

Movement in her peripheral vision. She looks up. Lee leans against her doorway,
watching her.

“If you’re here to see my boss,” Zoe says, wary, “he’s in a meeting. He
should be out shortly.”

Lee smiles and steps into her office. “I know. He texted me.”

“Oh. Cool,” she replies dismissively, tapping at her keyboard.

(4)

She tries to act unbothered, even though she desperately wants to ask
why he’s in her space and why he’s towering over her like he owns the
building.

“Jeez,” she mutters under her breath.

He hears it. His smirk deepens. He takes another step closer.

“Did you say something?”

Zoe looks up and frowns. “Do I know you from somewhere?”

He shakes his head, then nods. “Yeah. The elevator earlier.” His eyes flick
to her purse. “You were with your lip gloss.”

Her cheeks heat. “I don’t know what you want or why you’re in my office,
but I’d like to be alone.”

“I’m just getting acquainted with my new colleague.”

“You work here?”

“Starting today.”

“That’s unexpected.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because you look like you belong in a club. As a bouncer.”

Lee straightens, amused. “Is there a compliment hidden in there
somewhere?”

“What do you think?”

He shrugs. “I think you’re going to be fun.” He turns to leave, pausing at
the door. “We could grab lunch sometime. My treat.”

Then he’s gone.

(5)

Zoe shakes her head, refusing to let that… whatever it was get to her. She
has real things to deal with. Calls to make. A doctor to check in with.
Flowers to order for her sister. Maybe chocolates, too.

“Hey, Zoe, can you come to my office for a minute?” Stan says, poking his
head in.

She nods. “Okay.”

Stan’s Chinese pug lies on the floor, tail wagging lazily. When Zoe enters,
the dog leaps up and trots toward her. Zoe kneels and scratches behind
her ears. “Hey, Suzzy. Good to see you too.”

“Come sit. I have something to tell you,” Stan says, motioning to a chair.

Zoe glances at him, wary. Stan can be ironclad, even ruthless, but she
loves her job. One last pat on Suzzy’s head, then she sits.

“If this is about the Steeps project, I’ll finish it tonight and have it on your
desk first thing tomorrow.”

Stan opens a file and slides a sheet toward her. “No, not about the
project… entirely.”

(6)

“You’re making me nervous. What’s up?”

“We have a new guy, and he’ll be taking over your space…”

“My job?” Her eyes flash with fury.

“No. He’s a developer and can’t work from the hall.”

“Then he should create a cubicle. I remodeled that space with my first two
paychecks. I can’t just give it up.”

Stan seems amused. “What are you going to do?”

“Don’t do this, Stan. It’s not fair.”

“I know. I’m sorry. We have no option.”

Her brows furrow. “We?”

“Yeah… Lee and I. He’s my cousin.”

Zoe chuckles bitterly. “Wow. I see.”

“Zoe…”

“No, I get it. You’re throwing me out so your cousin can have my space.
Clever.”

“Zoe…”

(7)

“Don’t sell me excuses. You know how hard I worked late nights, extra
projects, and now you turn around to stab me in the back?”

“I’ll make sure you get the best spot,” Stan says.

Zoe waves him off. “Save it. I’d rather work from the restroom than accept
anything from you.”

He taps the paper. “Lee is developing a website to make your job easier.
This is the layout. Get familiar with it.”

She stands, dusting her skirt. “I don’t care about the website. I don’t care
about this job. I care about my space, and my money!”

“Zoe…”

She closes her eyes, tears stinging. What else is the universe going to
throw at her? When will it stop? Opening her eyes, she offers a faint smile.

“I’m sorry.”

Stan walks around the desk. “You can yell, throw things, I won’t stop you.
But I won’t accept you walking out and not coming back.”

“But I feel so sad. Everything’s happening at once…” she sniffles, wiping
her eyes.

“I sent money to cover the remodel. That helps?”

Her eyes brighten, though her chest still feels tight. “I guess.”

(8)

Later, on the way home, Zoe stops at a bookstore and grabs Prompt
Decision Making, a book she’d seen online praised for helping people stay
on track. She’d have preferred the audiobook, something to listen to while
jogging or even at work if she returned to that godforsaken building.

That night, picking up her phone to call the hospital, the nurse’s cheerful
voice came through: “Zara just asked for you.”

“Huh?” Zoe sits up in bed, turning on the bedside lamp. “What exactly did
she say?”

“Where’s Zoe?”

Tears prick her eyes. “Omg! How long ago?”

“An hour. I would have called sooner, but we had to run some tests and
stuff.”

“Can I see her now?”

“It’s late. She is sleeping.”

“I’ll be there first thing in the morning. Thank you so much.”

“Alright. Sweet dreams, Zoe.”

She beams, fist-bumps the air, and dances on the bed. Finally, her sister is
coming back to her, and that trumps everything the past few days have
thrown at her.