Page 66 of Hide From Me

“I think you just misheard us,” Cordelia says with a laugh I can’t read. “You were in panic mode.”

“No, I definitely—”

“Look,” she interrupts, “we just wanted to drop by. Moe didn’t give you a proper welcome, and we barely got to talk at the party, so… surprise!”

She strolls to the closet and helps Jasmine to her feet, tugging the novel from her grip.

“Girls’ night!” Jasmine says cheerily, though her face suggests she’s trying not to gag on the words.

I stare at them like they’ve grown horns.

Is this gaslighting? It feels like gaslighting.

Okay, on the bright side, at least it's not Lance with an axe. But then again... what on earth is happening here?

I reach for the collar of my shirt, tugging it to try to catch my breath. Maybe this is what friends do, and I'm reading the situation all wrong. Technically, I wouldn't really know. It seems like something Jack would do, not so much Laura. Besides them, I've never really had a group of people I could call more than acquaintances. I guess I haven’t adjusted to societal norms, thanks to Lance and his ways of controlling when and with whom I could talk.

"There’s no ‘girls night’ happening, We're not friends," I mutter.

“Don’t say that,” Jasmine sighs. “She clings harder when you do. Like an ex who thinks you’re her soulmate.”

“Well, I’m busy.”

“Great! We’ll hang out another time,” Jasmine chirps, like this is a normal conversation.

“Is it with Moe?” Cordelia cuts in.

At the party, they seemed like fun and normal people. Not like...this. Now they’re giving “undercover cult with matching knives” energy.

“He said you guys have an important business thing coming up—some pitch or whatever.” I shrug and glance at the mirror, watching their expressions. Jasmine looks around like she’s just now realizing she’s in someone’s home. Cordelia? Still studying me like I’m a test she’s already solved.

“Right. The meeting,” Cordelia says, grinning.

“We should go help with that,” Jasmine adds quickly.

Sure. Help with the “business.” Probably building bombs in a bunker or something.

“Maybe another time,” I offer with a fake smile, but to my surprise, Cordelia returns it with a genuine one. What have I gotten myself into? I really want to like them, even though I know I don’t have to—it's not like I'm spending the rest of my life with them or anything—but at the same time, this whole situation keeps throwing me in loops.

“We’re sorry for scaring you. I guess you could say we’re a bit desocialized because the business takes up most of our time,” Sharkie says genuinely as she steps behind me. Reaching past my arm, she flicks the handle of the blade, and it starts spinning, drawing my attention.

“A girls’ night would be fun sometime, though!” Jasmine says, but she doesn’t linger as she rushes out of my room, yelling, “And find a better spot for your key; under the mat is too cliché!”

Okay, she has a point there, and the advice eases my irritation towards her slightly. That and the fact that she’s nowhere near as intimidating as the other one.

Cordelia slowly walks toward the door, her footsteps barely making a sound against my creaking wooden floors. It’s odd; anyone I’ve ever known makesthem groan, but the way she, Jasmine, and Moe walk is so light and calculated that it’s concerning and downright strange. I tilt my head at the knife, curious about how it’s still spinning with such precision, looking as if it has no intention of slowing down.

“Let’s keep this misunderstanding between us, yeah?” Cordelia says gently. “Moe’s got a lot going on.”

I nod, but inside I’m spiraling. If two women can break into my home, hide, and almost get the jump on me, who’s to say no one else has been here snooping around?

I’m seriously fucked if someone has…

I rush to pack the rest of my things, barely registering the soft click of the front door as I grab my phone.

I won’t call Moe—he’s“busy”–but I’ll text him and make damn sureheknowsIknow something’s off.

Sixteen