Chapter 1 I have absolutely no sense of direction. Even after living in San Francisco for five years, I still couldn't tell north from south. Ethan used to always pre-set my GPS for me, promising that he would be my guide for the rest of my life. On our wedding day, as the bridal convoy wound its way up the twisting roads of the Marin Headlands, he suddenly announced that he had left my bridal bouquet in the trunk. The second I stepped out of the car, I heard the sharp click of the doors locking behind me. I caught the driver glancing at Ethan in the rearview mirror—like he was waiting for a signal. The next second, the entire convoy sped off into the dense, rolling fog, vanishing completely. My phone buzzed. A voice memo from Ethan. "There's a fork in the road 999 steps ahead. Chloe said you're so helpless you couldn't even find the wedding venue without me. I don't believe her. Maya, don't let me lose this bet." Chloe was his ex-girlfriend. I was wearing four-inch heels. My ankles were already bleeding. By the time I had taken two thousand steps, completely, hopelessly lost in the fog, I finally managed to get a call through to Ethan's phone. But Chloe answered. "She literally has zero sense of direction, and you made her walk by herself. Now she's going to be wandering the hills for three hours. What if she misses the ceremony?" Ethan's voice drifted through the speaker, sounding entirely unbothered. "Then we'll just start the reception. You can take the photos and do the toasts in her place. She'll find her way eventually." At that exact moment, a photo popped up in the bridal party group chat. Chloe was standing next to Ethan, holding the exact bridal bouquet he had tricked me into believing was in the trunk. It turns out those 999 steps weren't a test for me. They were a red carpet rolled out for her. I reached down, took off my heels, and threw them into the ravine. This time, I was going to walk in a different direction. ... "The bride is lost, so the groom has to take three penalty shots!" A video popped up in the group chat. The MC was standing on stage with a microphone, laughing and teasing Ethan and Chloe. "You two have such amazing chemistry. Truly living up to the title of best friends for seven years." The guests below whistled and cheered. Ethan, wearing the bespoke black tuxedo tailored specifically for our wedding, held the microphone with one hand, looking relaxed and completely at ease. "Chloe has been taking care of the guests all day in Maya's absence. She'll take this penalty shot for her." Chloe, wearing a bridesmaid dress, stood next to him. She lowered her head and took the shot glass, a shy, delicate smile on her face. Clueless relatives and friends started blowing up the group chat. "Honestly, the bridesmaid and the CEO look pretty good together." "The bride is so inconsiderate. How do you show up late to your own wedding?" Immediately after, another photo popped up in the chat. Ethan was leaning in, carefully adjusting a veil on Chloe's head. It wasn't a standard bridesmaid hairpiece. It was the main bridal headpiece—the one I had painstakingly steamed and prepped the night before, the one I was supposed to wear while saying my vows. I stood barefoot on the jagged, gravel-covered mountain road. Sharp rocks sliced into the soles of my feet. The pain shot straight up my nerves, but it didn't hurt nearly as much as the blinding glare of that photo on my screen. Five years ago, Ethan held my hand as we walked this exact same road. Pointing at the glittering San Francisco skyline in the distance, he promised he would never let me get lost in this city again. He told me that as long as I was with him, he would take me wherever he went. And now, he was standing next to someone else, accepting the blessings that were supposed to belong to me. A banner notification dropped down from the top of my screen. A text from Ethan. "There are signs on the road. Where are you? You have 300 steps left. Don't make me look bad in front of Chloe." Two minutes later, when I didn't reply, he sent another. "Don't make my family wait too long. Maya, grow up." For five years, every single time I got lost, he would stay on the phone with me, his voice infinitely patient: "Don't panic. Stay right where you are. I'm coming to get you." Today was the very first time he told me to walk by myself. Not because he was busy. Not because of an emergency. Simply because he made a bet with Chloe. I closed my messages app and dialed my father's private number. Six months ago, I had a massive, explosive fight with my father. I severed ties with him because I insisted on marrying Ethan, who had absolutely nothing. I insisted on leveraging my family's assets to guarantee his company's loans, funneling dark-pool capital to keep his startup afloat, and securing bridge financing when he was drowning. Despite our estrangement, my father still had his executive assistant arrange the entire fleet of luxury cars and the massive security detail for this wedding. He told me that a daughter of the Vance family must be married with absolute dignity and grace. The phone rang for a long time before it went to voicemail. My father didn't answer. I followed the wet tire tracks left by the bridal convoy, walking down the mountain, step by agonizing step. The fog was incredibly thick. I took the wrong turn twice and had to backtrack. My bloody footprints stamped into the grey asphalt, a horrifying, visceral trail. Ethan thought that without him, I would just stand in place and cry in circles. But it turns out that without a guide, I might be terrified, I might take the long way around... but I wouldn't be trapped forever. I flagged down a passing taxi. Once inside, I sent my father my very first text message in six months. "Dad, the wedding is off. I want to come home." Leaning against the cold window of the cab, I watched the Marin Headlands rapidly recede into the distance. I opened my messages app, found the conversation thread I had kept pinned to the top for five years, and hit Delete. Chapter 2 When I pushed open the massive front doors of our hillside mansion, the living room was a disaster zone. Chloe was wearing the traditional, gold-threaded crimson reception gown—the one my late mother had left for me. She was sitting dead center on my marital bed, excitedly tearing into the wedding gifts brought by the guests. The vintage emerald bangle my grandmother had left me was dangling loosely around her wrist. Ethan was crouched by the bed, holding a Band-Aid. "I told you during the toasts to change into flats. You had to be stubborn, and now look, you got a blister." His tone was dripping with absolute indulgence. He carefully, meticulously applied the Band-Aid to the back of Chloe's heel. There was only the faintest, almost invisible red mark there. Hearing the door open, Ethan looked back. Seeing me standing barefoot in the doorway, his eyes dropped to my mud-caked, blood-soaked feet. He paused for a fraction of a second, his brow furrowing. He turned and pulled out the first-aid kit. I thought, for a second, that he actually felt bad for me. Instead, he just shoved it directly into my hands. "You finally decided to show up? Clean yourself up." He walked over to the kitchen island, poured a glass of warm water, and slid it toward me. "You threw a massive tantrum today. My family was looking for you the entire reception. Even if you got lost, you should have called for help earlier. Pulling a disappearing act just made everyone look like a joke." I stared at the glass of water. I didn't take it. My feet were still actively bleeding. Every step I took left a bloody footprint on the pristine, cream-colored carpet. But in his eyes, the microscopic red mark on Chloe's heel required his personal, tender care. My mangled, bleeding feet were my own problem to fix. Chloe touched the emerald bangle on her wrist, offering a meek explanation. "Maya, I'm so sorry. I accidentally got my bridesmaid dress dirty coming down the mountain. Ethan said since you weren't wearing the reception gown, I should just borrow it for the photos." She lowered her head, looking the picture of absolute innocence. "Ethan gave me the bracelet, too. He said I haven't been sleeping well lately, and that jade is calming. If you're mad about it, I'll take it off right now." I stared dead at her. "You can take the dress off later. Give me the bracelet back right now." Chloe bit her lip and reached over to pull the bangle off. As it got stuck over her knuckles, she let out a small gasp: "Ethan, it hurts a little..." Ethan immediately stepped over and grabbed her hand. "Don't force it, you're going to bruise your bone." He turned, walked into the master bathroom, and brought out a bottle of massage oil. He rubbed it onto Chloe's wrist, slowly and carefully working the bangle down. "Maya, just wait a second. Chloe has a low pain tolerance," he said. I stood exactly where I was. The blood from my feet had completely soaked into the carpet beneath me. To avoid hurting Chloe, Ethan's movements were incredibly slow and gentle. As the bangle finally slid past her fingertips, Chloe's hand suddenly jerked. CRASH. A sharp, sickening shatter. The vintage emerald bangle slammed into the marble floor, breaking into three pieces. The room went dead silent. Ethan's absolute first reaction was to grab Chloe's hand, turning it over and over to inspect it: "Did the glass cut you?!" Only after confirming Chloe was perfectly fine did he finally look up at me. "It broke, it is what it is. I'll have my assistant go to Sotheby's tomorrow and bid on a better one for you." His tone was perfectly flat. Like he was talking about a dropped coffee mug. I crouched down and used my sleeve to wipe the massage oil off the shattered pieces of jade. "This was left to me by my mother," my voice sounded like grinding gravel. Ethan paused for a brief second, but his brow remained furrowed. "Chloe didn't do it on purpose. Don't try and force her to apologize today." Wiping the third piece of jade, I suddenly stopped. I finally realized that in Ethan's world, the bride could be swapped. The wedding dress could be swapped. Even the absolute last physical memory of my dead mother was entirely replaceable. "Don't bother buying a new one." I stood up and swept the shattered pieces directly into the trash can. Since everything is replaceable. Then replacing the man will be exactly the same. Chapter 3 I walked right past Ethan and headed straight for the walk-in closet. Pulling out my suitcase, I didn't pack a single item of clothing Ethan had ever bought me. I only grabbed a few basic, everyday outfits I had purchased myself. Ethan leaned against the doorframe, watching me pack, and let out a cold scoff. "Are we really playing the 'running away from home' game again? Maya, are you done throwing your fit? Chloe entertained all the elders for you today, and you haven't even said thank you. Now you're giving her attitude?" I ignored him entirely and turned to open the drawer of my nightstand. It was my backup drawer. It held my passport, my IDs, and an old, battered smartphone. The drawer was empty. My entire body went rigid. I whipped my head around and glared at Chloe. Chloe was sitting on the sofa, casually playing with that exact, familiar old smartphone. "Why are you touching my things? Give that back to me!" I marched over and held out my hand. Chloe shrank back behind Ethan, looking incredibly wronged. "Maya, don't yell at me. My phone died taking pictures today. I saw a spare phone in the drawer and just wanted to use it to AirDrop some photos." "I couldn't guess the passcode, so I just did a factory reset. It's just an old phone anyway, it's not like there was anything important on it, right?" A deafening buzz exploded in my brain. All the blood rushed straight to my head. That old phone didn't have photos or text messages. It only had a few voice memos. My mother died in a brutal car crash. Before she died, her absolute biggest worry was that I had zero sense of direction. She was always on the phone with me, teaching me how to navigate. After she died, I was so traumatized I refused to leave the house. It was Ethan who stayed up for three days straight, splicing and editing old voicemails my mother had sent me, creating a one-of-a-kind, custom GPS navigation voice pack. "Maya, turn left ahead." "Slow down, honey. Don't be scared." "It's okay if you make a wrong turn. Mom is right here." For the past five years, every single time I stepped outside in this city, I relied on that phone. I relied on my mother's voice to keep me grounded. I violently snatched the phone from Chloe's hand and turned it on, my fingers shaking uncontrollably. The screen lit up. It displayed the initial factory setup screen. Wiped perfectly clean. Absolutely nothing was left. The local backups were gone, and the cloud storage had been casually wiped along with it. I stared dead at Chloe. My eyes were so bloodshot they looked like they were going to bleed. I raised my hand and slapped her across the face with everything I had. SLAP! Chloe shrieked, clutching her face as she fell back onto the sofa. Ethan's face mutated in rage. He grabbed my wrist, his grip so vicious it felt like he was trying to snap my bone. "Maya Vance! Are you out of your fucking mind?!" "She deleted my navigation voice pack!" I struggled, my fingernails digging into the back of his hand. "Ethan, you knew that was my mother's voice! You knew exactly what that was!" Ethan froze for a second. Then, he let go of my wrist and pulled Chloe behind him defensively. He frowned, his voice dripping with intense, suffocating impatience. "It was just a few voice memos. Chloe didn't know. The woman has been dead for years, Maya, you can't live your entire life clinging to a few audio clips." He paused, then added with absolute, sickening entitlement: "Tomorrow I'll hire top-tier voice actors to mimic your mom's voice and record a much higher-quality set for you. Is that enough?!" I looked at the man standing in front of me. It felt like someone had ripped my chest open with a crowbar, letting the freezing winter wind howl through the gaping hole. The teenage boy who once held me and promised, "Don't be scared, I'll help you keep your mom's voice forever," had died a long time ago. Now, he was personally invalidating the entire existence of those memories. "Voice actors?" A broken, tragic laugh ripped out of my throat as I stumbled backward. "Ethan. Do you really believe everyone is replaceable?" I turned around, grabbed my suitcase, and started walking toward the door. Ethan yelled from behind me: "If you walk out that door today, our honeymoon trip to Iceland next week is canceled!" He knew that taking my mother's ashes to see the Northern Lights was a trip I had been planning for three years. I didn't stop walking. I didn't even turn my head. "Cancel it." Because I was never going to need him to be my guide ever again. Chapter 4 I dragged my suitcase out of the mansion. The weather in the Bay Area is notoriously volatile. Just hours ago it was only heavy fog; now, gale-force winds were dragging black, bruising clouds down over the hills. An emergency hurricane warning popped up on my phone. Standing on the curb, preparing to hail an Uber to the airport, I suddenly remembered something. The urn holding my mother's ashes was still in the trunk of that wedding car. The original plan was to leave the reception and head straight to SFO to fly to Iceland. Because I got out of the car halfway up the mountain, the driver had parked the car back at the venue's parking lot at the summit of the Marin Headlands. I immediately flagged down a taxi and headed back up the mountain. The wind was howling, and rain battered against the windshield like bullets. Halfway up the mountain road, the cab driver slammed on the brakes and absolutely refused to go any further. "Miss, there's a mudslide warning for the summit. They're about to close the roads. No amount of money is worth me driving up there to die!" I had no choice but to get out. Bracing against the torrential rain and hurricane-force winds, I started hiking up the mountain road on foot. Without the navigation voice pack on my old phone, I was completely paralyzed on the winding, intersecting trails. The blinding rain obliterated my vision. I could only blindly feel my way through the mud based on sheer memory. My phone battery was at 10%. That's when I realized my portable power bank was missing from my purse. Right before I left the house, Chloe had "helpfully" offered to hand me my bag. At that exact moment, a text from Ethan popped up. "What the hell are you doing running back up the mountain? The emergency sirens are going off. Are you actively trying to get yourself killed?" I sent him a voice memo. "Ethan, I can't see the road. I can't find the parking lot." My voice was violently shaking in the wind. The chat interface remained dead silent for two agonizing minutes. Finally, Ethan replied: "Stay exactly where you are. Chloe went out to buy something earlier and got lost at the base of the mountain. I'm going to go pick her up first, and then I'll come find you." I stared at the words on the screen, leaning weakly against a freezing rock wall. The convenience store Chloe was at was only a few hundred yards from our mansion. It was a designated safe zone. Meanwhile, the emergency sirens directly above my head were shrieking, growing more urgent by the second, ordering an immediate evacuation of the area. He clearly received my live location pin. Half an hour later, my phone battery dropped to 3%. A new message popped up in the wedding group chat. Chloe posted a photo. She was wrapped in Ethan's oversized suit jacket, sitting in the passenger seat of his G-Wagon, holding a steaming cup of coffee. The caption read: "Hurricane weather, but I'm so lucky to have you by my side." Immediately after, Chloe sent me a private DM. "Maya, Ethan said you need to learn how to navigate on your own eventually. He's really tired today, so we headed home first. Stay safe out there! <3" Through the curtain of rain, I looked down at the winding mountain road below. The familiar headlights of his G-Wagon illuminated an intersection in the distance. It didn't hesitate for a second. It made a sharp U-turn and drove straight back down the mountain. It wasn't that he couldn't find me. He actively chose not to come. With trembling fingers, I opened the chat with my father and sent one final message. "Dad, I think I took a wrong turn again." The phone screen flickered once, and went completely black. In the distance, a low, terrifying rumble echoed through the hills. It was the sound of a mountainside collapsing, massive boulders tearing through the earth, rushing directly toward my location. Just as I thought it was truly over, the dead screen of my phone suddenly flared to life for a fraction of a second. The residual battery power forced through one final text message. "Don't panic. Stay exactly where you are. Daddy is coming to get you." The phone died completely. The deafening roar of the mudslide grew terrifyingly close. In the absolute darkness, I closed my eyes. Ethan. We have no future left.
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