Page 2 of The Star in Room 7

“Yes, once they started getting creepy. They said there wasn’t much they could do unless… Unless…” She did something physical. Does breaking into my home count? I stand, arms wrapped defensively around my chest, and go back to pacing.

“You seem pretty shook up.”

I wheel on him. “Wouldn’t you be?” I falter backward, making myself small. As small as I can, anyway. “I’m sorry, I— I shouldn’t have said that, or…” I hunch my shoulders and turn away. “I am. I’m really freaked out.” My voice wobbles. “She was in my home. I can’t— I don’t want to—” My voice breaks completely. I squeeze my eyes shut, but it doesn’t stop tears sliding down my cheeks. “I’m scared,” I admit, in a voice that’s so quiet and fragile, it sounds like it came from someone else. “How did she even know where I live?”

The letters and postcards had all come to me via my agent’s office. They weren’t vetted or anything, just forwarded to me. I imagine all the ways she could have figured out where I live, my memory honing in on an article that was published a couple of days ago. Did she see it and figure out where I live based on the photo, or has she been following me? If so, for how long? If this is a nightmare, I want to wake up.

“We’ll try to figure that out as part of our investigation,” Officer Vale says.

“Will she go to jail?”

“That’s not for me to decide, but I’d imagine so. She’ll be questioned and probably charged. If bail is set, it’ll be high. If she’s able to post it, it’ll be on the condition that she’s not allowed anywhere near you. Although you might want to sort out a restraining order as well, for your own peace of mind.”

Peace of mind? I’m not sure a restraining order can accomplish that.

“LA takes stalking seriously,” Vale continues. “We have to, with the amount of stars we have living here. So, please, try not to worry. I know tonight has been a shock, but you’re unlikely to see her again.” His words are comforting. They should be enough to convince me that I’m safe here, but they’re not.

I stare around the apartment. I fell in love with it the moment I saw it. It’s close to the Arts District in North Hollywood—NoHo to the locals. It was affordable—just about—and I was able to get a job nearby, waiting tables. My boss let me pick up shifts around auditions and, when I landed my first role, she promised there’d be a job waiting for me afterward if I wanted it, which I did. The film might have blown up and become more popular than any of us imagined, but I was paid a flat fee, so I didn’t see a single extra penny. Cent. I imagined myself staying here for the foreseeable future, but now…

Now it’s the last place I want to be.

She was in my home.

I’ve just outed myself to a stranger.

I’ve got nowhere to go.

I stumble to the sofa, sit, rest my elbows on my knees, and sink my head into my hands. “Why?” I mumble, not expecting anyone to answer. “Why did this have to happen to me?”

It shouldn’t have happened to anyone.

Office Vale squats down in front of me, his hands clasped between his splayed knees. “Look, I can see you’re upset by all this and that you could do with a place to stay for a night or two. Maybe longer.”

I lower my hands and blink at him. Exactly what is he suggesting?

“I know a place.” He keeps his voice low and soothing, like he’s talking to an injured animal, rather than a freaked-out actor. “A friend of mine runs it. There’s a room free, if you want it.”

“What kind of place?” I ask, cautiously. He’s a cop. I should trust him, but my defenses are up.

“It’s a haven for people who have nowhere else to go.”

I shake my head and shift my upper body backward, away from him. “I’m not sure that includes me…”

“I promise you it does.” He glances over his shoulder. We’re alone. I think his partner is in my bedroom. My apartment isn’t exactly huge. “You’re queer, aren’t you?”

I rub the top of my arm and nod.

“You’re scared, and you don’t have anywhere else to go.”

I nod after each statement.

“Then it includes you. I know things must feel pretty scary and overwhelming right now, but you’d be safe at Halo House.”

Halo House? It sounds like somewhere run by an angel. Or for angels.

“No one would need to know you’re there, which means no one will be able to find you. Unless you want them to. Think about it, okay? You’ve got options. You don’t have to stay here if you don’t want to.” He stands and wanders to my bedroom door. He opens it and says something to his partner, but his voice is muffled, or maybe I’m just not listening.

A secret haven. Is that what I need? I need to not be here, in an apartment that smells of her. I could go to a motel, but would I feel any safer?