Page 27

I downed the rest of my wine, padded into the kitchen, put the glass in the sink, then flicked off the lights room by room until the whole apartment went dark—save for the skyline glowing outside my window.

It was almost midnight.

My first night here.Alone.

I should have been thrilled, and I was,but when I crawled into bed and pulled the covers up, the silence hit a little too hard. Not the peaceful kind. The other kind. The kind that makes you hyper-aware of every creak and hum in the building. Every shift of the pipes. Every gust of wind blowing against the windows.

I laid there, one arm tucked behind my head, staring up at the ceiling fan rotating in slow, hypnotic circles, and sighed. This place was big. Bigger than it felt earlier, when the daylight made it glow, and the delivery guys kept ringing the doorbell with box after box of all my expensive shit.

Now it felt… too still.

Like I had built myself the perfect little kingdom, but forgot to invite anyone to live in it.

I wasn’t scared.

I didn’tdoscared.

There was just a weird twist in my gut that I couldn’t shake. Not fear, exactly. Just a muted buzz of unease I couldn’t quite place. Maybe it was the quiet. Maybe it was the fact that no one other than my dad knew I was here. Not really. Not in the way that mattered. Or maybe it was that, for the first time, I realized just how easy it is to disappear in a place like this.

I turned over onto my side and pulled the covers a little higher, lips pressed together, heartbeat just a touch too fast.

Just nerves.

That’s all it was.

Still… I left the lamp on.

Just for tonight.

A short while later, I turned over in bed and started at a sound. I told myself it was nothing, just a creak, maybe the wind, or maybe even the building settling. Anything normal to settle the nervous energy coursing through me.

For a while, I just stared into the shadows, that weird twist still sitting low in my stomach, the one I pretended didn’t exist when I smiled my way through the lease signing, and when I handed over the deposit like I’d earned it with clean hands.

I threw back the covers and swung my legs out of bed, padding barefoot across the cool hardwood. The hem of my cotton shorts brushed the top of my thighs, my little cropped tee clinging to my skin in the worst possible way—and somehow, I still felt exposedeven though I knew I was all alone up here.

I was being ridiculous.

I was safe here. Locked in. It was a high-rise. It had security. There were doormen downstairs. Keypad locks. I double-checked everything earlier, but now I just needed to make sure.

So I walked quietly down the hall, flipped on the light over the entryway, and checked the keypad again.

Locked.

Of course it was.

I reached out and pressed my fingers to the number pad anyway, just for the tactile reassurance. The beep felt oddly comforting.

I let out a breath and turned to walk away.

And then I heard something.

Click.

Not a normal sound. Not mechanical. Something gave behind me, and before I could spin around fully, I heard the door open.

I froze.

The door.Mydoor. The one no one should be able to open.