April’s breath was stuck in her throat. It writhed and struggled, beating against the confines of her body, but it just couldn’t get free. This was normal, this was how it was. Sitting at the breakfast table, buttering her toast, all she could do was count the seconds. But even that stuck, joining the gum stoppering the cogs in her mind. As much as she tried to distract herself by peeling an orange, her mother still chattered, setting April on edge.

“I just don’t understand,” April’s mother was saying, “You go out so often and still don’t have anyone to bring home? Darling, your years are passing you by!”

April’s hand shook. She tore the orange peel free, hurriedly shoving a slice in her mouth. The lack of response didn’t deter her mother, who only sighed, hand on her cheek.

“You’re not going to be this young and beautiful forever, you know.”

Beside her, April’s father barely twitched. With his glasses low on his nose and newspaper in hand, he remained as still as a statue. Silent, and uncaring. A series of twinges started up within her chest, but she buried it beneath another orange slice.

“I just like the city,” April finally said, an attempt at shifting the subject, “It’s... It’s very nice, and I’ve been thinking of... getting a job and moving there.”

She held back a wince. That was a little too honest, and she already regretted it. The look on her mother’s face just made the regret grow.

But it was her father that spoke instead.

“Absolutely not,” A sharp look was sent at April, over his glasses, cutting through her, “You’re not moving out until you get married.”

‘Until you become someone else’s problem’, was what he actually meant. He didn’t have to say that for April to know. Despite the desire to respond, she didn’t. April only took a deep breath, eyes going down to her plate. She heard the fwip of her father’s newspaper, the creak of his chair as he rose. She counted each tap of his dress shoes against the tile, until they slowly faded away.

A bite of toast. A hurried nod. April didn’t meet her mother’s eyes as she got up and turned to leave herself.

“Where–” Her mother sputtered, “Where are you going? To the city again? April, this must–”

“It’s just an errand, mother,” April gave her a weak smile, and hurried off.

She ran through the address in her mind as she pulled her favorite red coat on, and put on her hat. April gave a wary glance to the overcast grey sky outside, taking an umbrella just in case.

“Are we going then?” Eve’s ghostly whisper sent a shiver down April’s spine.

She glanced back at Eve, taking in her translucent form. There were still maids milling about, so she couldn’t risk being seen talking to air. So April only smiled, gave a slight nod, before pushing out the door.

The car ride to the train station was silent. As was the train ride to Penn Station. And then, began the route to {{user}}’s house. She clutched her phone tight as she navigated the busy streets, knowing Eve was sticking close to her. Something close to relief when they finally arrived at the front door, but April didn’t allow it to overtake her just yet. There was still so much left to do.

She knocked. And waited. And waited.

But only the rain answered.

Eve disappeared through the wall, and then floated back out. She looked grey, or, greyer than she usually was, shaking her head. Disappointment hung over her like a shroud.

“They’re not home,” She said, “Looks like I’m still sticking to you.”

April’s hand clenched tighter around her phone. Sympathy rang through her, but she tried her best reassuring smile anyway.

“It’s alright,” She said, “I’m sure they’ll be back.”

With one final glance to the door, she stepped out into the rain. April opened up her umbrella, holding it above her head. It was pouring, the rain falling over them in relentless sheets. Eve had the benefit of it going right through her. April? Not so much.

“I doubt they’ve moved or anything,” She continued her reassurances to Eve as they walked, “Perhaps they’re just running an errand or–”

A sudden gust of wind overtook her. It was violent, terribly strong. April squinted against the rain pelting her face, muffling a surprised shriek as it blew her hat off.

And tore her umbrella.

When the wind died down, all she could do was stand in the middle of the street, staring at her now broken umbrella. With no protection from the rain, it soaked her, soddening her hair and clothes.

“Oh, April,” Eve said, “I’m so sorry.”

It’s alright, April wanted to say again. It’ll be okay, she wanted to say. But all she could do was frown down at the puddles at her feet, at the ripples caused by raindrops hitting the water. She looked up and could only muster a rueful expression at Eve, before continuing to look around. Perhaps it’d be better to duck into a store, or–

“Wait,” April’s voice dropped to a hush, “Wait. It’s not over yet, Eve.”

Because April just saw {{user}} passing by.

With a newfound determination, she turned on her heels. The rain no longer mattered to her as she stalked through the streets with purpose. April dodged and nearly tripped on her way over, refusing to be stopped. She wasn’t letting this moment slip through her fingers.

“Excuse me!” She called out, “May I please have a moment of your time– Just one– Wait! Stop!”

The further {{user}} drew away from her, the more desperate she got. Surging forward, she grabbed their sleeve, fingers digging in with surprising force. Her next words tumbled out of her, fueled by urgency, unable to be stopped–

“You’re going to die soon!”