Page 77 of Before Dawn

Maybe she hadn’t realized I’d tucked that piece of information away.

But I did.

Because everything about her stuck with me.

I knew she loved ice cream, but only in certain seasons because of her sensitive teeth. That she wasn’t a huge fan of sweets, but chocolate cake and the occasional donut were her kryptonite. That Lay’s chips held a sacred place in her heart, but barbecue flavor ruled all.

And then there was her favorite color—yellow. It made sense. Yellow was warmth. Comfort. Sunlight spilling through a window, touching everything in its path.

But the thing that had stuck with me the most?

She told me that if she could be a time of day, she’d be just before dawn.

That quiet, extraordinary moment when the world holds its breath—full of promise. Not quite day, not quite night. Just… in-between.

She was right.

There was something about her that mirrored that moment. That feeling. She was the calm before everything changed.

Maybe that’s why I couldn’t stop thinking about her.

Every couple of weeks, she’d get her nails and toes done and send me pictures of her latest designs. At first, it was just a casual thing she did. Now? I looked forward to it like a fool. My heart kicked up whenever I saw her name pop up with an attachment. A glimpse into her world, into the little things that made her feel like herself.

Most days, she lounged around her apartment, hair in a messy bun or tucked under a silk bonnet. And yet—she was still the most beautifulperson I’d ever seen. Her dedication to her hair, her routines, her care—it pulled me in.

She talked a lot, about everything and nothing. And I could listen to her for hours. She didn’t believe I did sometimes, which pissed me off more than I’d like to admit.Who the hell made her feel unheard?I wanted to track them down just to let them know I’d spend a lifetime proving her wrong.

I even started watchingBeauty and the Beast—both the original and live-action. Work swallowed me whole before I could finish the holiday specials, but I would. Because she loved it. And I wanted to know what made her heart ache in the best way.

I didn’t just like her—I felt her.

She reminded me of fall. Not because of its fading beauty, but because of how it lingered—soft, steady, unforgettable. Fall didn’t rush. It held onto its warmth, its colors, until the very last leaf fell.

She did the same to me.

Changing me in ways I couldn’t stop, even if I wanted to.

And then I saw her.

The world seemed to stop.

She walked toward me in cargo pants and an oversized T-shirt, her hair pulled back into a black bow, a silver necklace with a flower pendant catching the light. Simple. Effortless. And yet, I was seconds from forgetting how to breathe.

I’d thought my glasses had failed me before, never quite capturing the full picture of her. Now, I knew for sure. No lens could do her justice.

And the worst part? I didn’t even care.

Because nothing—not my vision, not the city blurring behind her—could pull my focus away from her.

And God help me, I didn’t want it to.

“Hey,” she greeted, her smile radiant, stealing the breath from my lungs.

“Hey,” I murmured, my heart flipping like a gymnast at the sight of her. “You’re really beautiful.”

A blush bloomed on her cheeks, making my grip on reality even more precarious.

“These are for you, Red.” I offered her a bouquet of yellow and blue primroses.

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