You know how he is about guests. Jen, I have nowhere to go. What about mom? Mom's in Arizona with Frank. She made it clear I'm not welcome there.
Silence. Look, L, I'm sorry about what happened, but you have to understand this is really awkward timing. We're hosting Marcus's parents this week, and Elena hung up. She tried two friends. One didn't answer.
The other said her roommate wouldn't allow it. By the time the sun set, Elena was sitting at a coffee shop with $8 in her checking account and a dead phone battery. David had already frozen their joint account. She had one credit card in her name, maxed out from the fertility treatments. The snowstorm started at 7.
By 8, the coffee shop was closing. Elena walked outside into a wall of white. She had no car. David kept it. No money, no family willing to help.
The homeless shelters downtown were 40-minute walks away, and she'd already called. All full because of the storm. So, she found a bus shelter and sat down. That's where she was now, watching her breath fog in the air, feeling her body slowly shutting down from the cold, wondering if this was how it ended. Headlights cut through the snow.
Elena barely noticed. Cars had been passing for the last hour. Nobody stopped. Why would they? She was just another homeless person on a street corner, but this car slowed, then stopped.
Elena looked up through frozen eyelashes. A black SUV idled at the curb, exhaust billowing in the frigid air. Expensive, the kind of vehicle that costs more than most people's houses. The back door opened. A little girl, maybe 6 years old, leaned out.
Daddy, she's freezing. Sophie, get back inside. No, look at her. A man's voice, deep tired. Sophie, we can't just She's going to die.
The driver's door opened. A tall man stepped out into the storm. Elena tried to focus, but everything was blurry. She could make out broad shoulders, dark hair dusted with snow, an expensive coat. He approached slowly, hands visible like she was a wounded animal.
Ma'am, she didn't respond. Ma'am, can you hear me? Elena managed to nod. Are you hurt? She shook her head.
Do you have somewhere to go? She shook her head again. The man crouched in front of her and she finally saw his face. Sharp features, gray eyes, maybe early 30s, the kind of handsome that came with money and personal trainers and stylists. I'm Mason, he said quietly.
Those are my kids in the car. We're headed home and it's warm there. Will you come with us? Elena's brain tried to process the offer. Stranger car.
Kids. This is how people disappear. No, she whispered. Okay. Mason didn't push.
Can I call someone for you? Family, friends? No one. His expression shifted. Not pity.
Something else. Understanding. The shelters are full, he said. And this storm's getting worse. Weather service says -15 with windchill.
I'm fine. You're not fine. You're hypothermic. I said I'm fine. Mason stood, ran a hand through his hair, looked back at his SUV where three small faces were pressed against the windows.