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“Sorry, miss.”
“It’s okay. “I stuff my hands in my pockets, looking down at the ground. “Sorry for almost knocking you over.”
“You live in that building, right?” He points at my apartment building, stepping into my path before I can leave. “I see you walking home every day. You always look so sad.”
Perfect. A young kid noticed how often I come and go from the apartment.
Do I think that Sergey would interrogate a child to find out where I am? Absolutely.
I clear my throat and nod, the hair on the back of my neck standing up. I resist the urge to look over my shoulder, knowing it will look strange to the other people walking past us.
Spending my life looking over my shoulder isn’t what I want, but getting captured by a man who must hate me now is worse.
Although, I don’t know if he ever liked me at all. I was just a challenge to him, a virgin, which he probably didn’t have in a very long time.
After weeks of thinking about what happened on that plane, it’s the conclusion I’ve come to. If it had been another flight attendant there, he would have done the same thing.
“Miss?”
“Yeah. I live in that building. You live in this one?” I point to his building, wishing that this conversation would end.
He grins and picks up a small baseball from the bottom of the steps. “Yeah. I do. My name’s Andy. What’s yours?”
“Rose.”
The name slips out easily as if it’s been my name my entire life.
Matt did an excellent job of creating a brand-new identity for me on a short timeline.
The boy tosses his ball in the air with one hand and catches it with the other. “Bye Rose.”
He takes off toward his building, lurching up the steps two at a time. I dip my head again, climbing the stairs to my apartment block and disappearing inside.
The stairs are the best way to avoid any unwanted conversation even though my apartment is on the fourth floor.
I can also see who is waiting for me on each floor before I open the door.
It only takes a few minutes to get to the fourth. I peer through the little window in the stairwell door, making sure nobody is there before stepping out into the hallway.
People are laughing in one of the apartments on the right. It’s a soft and feminine laugh, but that doesn’t mean Sergey hasn’t placed people in the apartments to watch me.
I’m too paranoid.
If he knew I was here, he would have sent people after me already.
I take a deep breath as I pull the keys out of my pocket and unlock my front door.
When I get inside, I flick on all the lights and take my time checking every room. I look for anything that might have been moved or someone hiding under my bed.
As soon as I finish checking the apartment, I double-check the locks.
“Nobody can get me here. I’m safe. That bastard doesn’t know that I’m here.” I reassure myself.
I shed the baggy jacket and shirt, trading them for something a little more fitted. After sliding off the jeans and yanking on a pair of leggings, I head into the kitchen to make dinner.
Within half an hour, the pasta sauce that my father used to make is bubbling on the stove.
During the nights I miss him the most, I make this sauce. It smells like home in the best way possible.
