Part 1Storm Warnings Never Meant for Me

At our final dinner before my graduation, my brother, Ethan Sawyer, suddenly gets a rainstorm alert on his phone.

It isn't for our city. It's for Lindale, two hundred miles away.

The next second, my childhood friend, Yohan Harrison, and my boyfriend, Connor Langley, receive the same alert.

All three of them look down at their screens at the exact same time.

Ethan is the first to text Willow Quinn.

"Bring your umbrella."

Yohan immediately checks whether the high-speed train is delayed.

Connor has already opened his ride-hailing app. He plans to go pick Willow up because she's getting off work late.

That's when I notice something. Lindale is the second city saved in all three of their weather apps—the same city where Willow has been doing her internship for the past six months.

Whenever the temperature drops, someone reminds her to wear something warmer. When it rains, someone reminds her to bring an umbrella. When a hurricane is coming, someone makes sure to book her train ticket in advance.

Meanwhile, I've mentioned three times in our group chat that I received a job offer from a studio in Fordham. No one has ever asked if it's cold there.

Before Connor leaves, he even reminds me, "Make sure to ping me tomorrow morning so I can check Lindale's weather forecast."

I nod silently, keeping quiet about the fact that I only have a few days left to accept the offer. Once I sign my name, I'll soon be flying five thousand miles away.

After that, none of them will ever need to know what kind of weather awaits me in my new city.

* * *

At 7:00 am the next morning, the dorm manager's call jolted me awake.

"Zelda, remember, all graduates need to move out before noon today."

I looked at the cardboard boxes piled across half my room.

Then, I remembered that my brother, Ethan Sawyer, had promised to come by that morning to help me move. My childhood friend, Yohan Harrison, had promised to disassemble my bookshelves. My boyfriend, Connor Langley, had even teased me for packing too slowly.

"Don't touch a thing," Connor had scoffed playfully. "The three of us will come tomorrow and have everything moved out in two hours."

At 8:00 am, I texted them, but no one replied.

At 9:00 am, Ethan finally picked up the phone. An electric drill was buzzing in the background.

"What's up?" he asked, sounding distracted.

"What time are you guys coming over?"

He paused for a moment before saying, "Oh, I forgot to tell you. The window in Willow's apartment leaked last night. Half the wall was soaked, so we came over to help her find another place."

I tightened my grip on the phone and said nothing.

As if worried I might get upset, Ethan quickly added, "Look, your building has an elevator, right? Why don't you take the boxes downstairs yourself?"

Noting my silence, he explained further, "It's a mess over here. We even have to take her bed apart."

I looked down and counted everything I had to move. There were thirteen cardboard boxes, two suitcases, plus three years' worth of model kits, framed artwork, and dozens of textbooks.

"I have to clear everything out before noon," I said into the phone.

"Then, just hire a mover. It's not like you can't afford it," Ethan replied casually.

Then, the call ended.

Ten minutes later, Yohan posted a photo in our group chat.

Willow Quinn was squatting in the middle of the empty living room of her new place, wearing a hat made from folded newspaper. Ethan was assembling the bed, Yohan was hanging curtains from a ladder, and Connor was bent over, mopping the floor.

Willow captioned the photo with three crying emojis and the message—"The window was only leaking a little, and somehow all three of them showed up."

Ethan replied, "Well, the weather app warned us first thing this morning that it was going to rain again today."

Connor chimed in right after him. "We need to get her new place ready ASAP. Otherwise, everything will get soaked again tonight."

I glanced out my dorm window.

The sky in my city was heavy with grey clouds, too. Yet not one of them had bothered to ask if I could manage on my own.

By 10:30 am, the dorm manager had started going door to door, urging everyone to hurry.

With no other choice, I began carrying everything downstairs myself.

The last box held all my textbooks from the past few years. It was brutally heavy.

As I rounded the corner of the stairwell, the bottom of the cardboard box suddenly split open. My books tumbled out and crashed onto the floor with a heavy thump.

A loose wooden plank slipped out with the books, and its sharp edge sliced straight across my palm. Blood immediately welled up from the cut.

A few students nearby rushed over to help.

"Zelda, your hand is bleeding so much!" one of them cried out.

I quickly pulled out a few tissues and pressed them against the wound.

"I'm fine," I murmured.

I'd said those words so many times that they came naturally.

At 12:05 pm, I shoved the last box into the moving van. That was when Connor finally called.

"Are you done moving?" Connor asked over the speaker.

"Yeah," I replied, wiping the sweat from my forehead.

"Great!" he said, letting out a sigh of relief. "Are you heading back to the dorm this afternoon? Willow has two boxes of books left at her old place, and she doesn't have room for them in her new apartment. There's still room in your dorm, right? Just keep them for her until—"

I cut him off. "I've already checked out of my dorm."

Connor went quiet for a moment.

"So soon?"

I didn't know what to say.

I'd told them in the group chat a week ago that today was my move-out deadline. Ethan said he'd drive. Yohan said he'd move the books. Connor told me not to lift a finger.

Yet, the moment Willow said her window was leaking, all three of them had forgotten their promises.

"Don't worry about it," Connor replied, as if he'd found another solution. "Just put them at your place for now. Your apartment's got plenty of space anyway."

I stared at the blood-soaked tissue wrapped around my palm and asked, "Connor, do you remember why I had to move out today?"

"Because you graduated," he answered hesitantly.

"And?" I pressed on.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

I remained silent.

He didn't even realize what he was missing. After graduation, I'd be starting work soon. Yet, none of them had any idea where I was going.

That evening, Ethan and the others finally came back. Willow was with them.

The moment she walked through the door, she spotted my gauze-wrapped hand.

"Zelda, what happened to your hand?" she gasped.

"What happened?" Connor asked, frowning.

"I hurt it while moving a box," I replied coldly.

"I told you to hire movers, but you just had to do it yourself," Ethan said, scoffing.

I looked him dead in the eye. "I did hire movers."

"Fine. You got it done anyway," he muttered dismissively before lowering his head to check his phone.

The next second, Ethan suddenly turned to Connor and Yohan. "The temperature's dropping 40 degrees tomorrow."

Then, he looked at Willow and asked, "Is your thick comforter still at your old place?"

Yohan grabbed his car keys from the coffee table without missing a beat.

"Let's go get it now," he suggested.

Connor immediately stood up. The three of them started making plans again.

From the couch, Willow glanced at me apologetically.

"Maybe we should just leave it for now," she said. "Zelda hurt her hand. You guys should stay with her."

Ethan chuckled. "It's just a small cut. It'd be a bigger problem if you caught a cold tomorrow."

I lowered my gaze to the gauze wrapped around my hand.

Suddenly, the truth hit me. They weren't forgetful or careless. They remembered everything—the weather, the temperature, the rain, and even cold snaps.

It was just that none of those reminders on their apps had ever been meant for me.