5.18

The door bursts open. Julia stumbles out, coat slipping from her shoulder, bag half-unzipped. Music and voices spill into the street, then cut off as the door swings shut behind her. She makes it a few steps before leaning hard against the wall. Breath clouds in the night air. Her eyes close, head tipped back.

Her knees give. She slides down the brick, about to hit the pavement—

—but a hand shoots in, catching her under the arm. Steadying her. It’s Hannah.