Bradley woke up to urgent knocking at the front door downstairs. He ignored it at first. Whoever it was probably had the wrong house, would realize it, and leave. But it wouldn't stop. He ran down and threw open the door.
"What!?"
A woman, young, grabbed onto the door frame panting. Her hair was in disarray and she had a wild look in her eye like a cornered animal.
"Brad."
"Do I know you?" A moment of clarity came to him. He saw the woman for who she was now, without the wild look, without the tangled hair. He remembered her five years younger, when she used to share his bed.
"Che-Cheryl?"
"We have to go. Now," she said.
"But--"
"Now," she repeated with earnest, grabbed his hand, and dragged him barefoot into the dead of night.
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