I sit up slowly, flex my hand. My knuckles are stiff, crusted with dried blood. The cut across them throbs like it’s reminding me of what I did.
The apartment’s quiet. Too quiet.
I push off the bed and walk to the door.
When I open it, the hallway’s empty… no fisherman’s hat, no body, no sound. Just empty floor and ambient light.
He’s gone.
I pull out my phone and scroll to the same number I called earlier.
When the line clicks, I keep my voice low. “Has it been handled?”
“I scrubbed the security cameras,” the voice says. “Everything’s been handled.”
“So we won’t be seeing him again?”
A short pause. “Like I said. It’s handled.”
I nod to myself. “That’s all I needed to hear.” I hang up.
For a while, I just stand there, staring at my phone like it’s supposed to give me an answer. The adrenaline’s gone. What’s left feels worse.
I close the door, lean against it, and look down at my hand again. The skin’s swollen and split… a reminder of how far I let things go.
I grab a towel and press it against the cut. The sting keeps me grounded.
It’s not just anger. It’s something else. Something I don’t have a name for.
I stare out the window… at my own reflection, ghosted over the city lights. The version of me that keeps losing control.
Maybe it’s time to talk to someone.
Maybe it’s time to stop pretending I’m fine.
But I don’t move. I just stand there, bleeding quietly into a towel, wondering if that’s even possible for someone like me.
Chapter 5
Ella
The elevator ride down is quiet.
My mind keeps circling the same place I’ve been trying not to look—what happened after I left. The sound. The bang.
By the time the doors slide open into the lobby, I’ve almost convinced myself it was nothing.
Almost.
I step out and spot Chester. He’s our building’s gossip column, always knowing things before anyone else does. He looks up from whatever he’s pretending to work on and smiles like he’s been waiting for an audience.
“Morning,” I say, already slowing. “What’s the scoop today, Chester?”
He brightens immediately.
“The lady in 2C brought home a pet snake that I don’t think should be allowed in the building. Guy in 5A’s girlfriend threw his clothes out the window at three in the morning—very theatrical.”
I smile despite myself. “Anything actually dangerous?”
