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“Good.” She grabs a coffee too and follows me back to my desk.

Laura stops right outside the breakroom, giving us both a glare that could melt ice, her brunette hair pulled back in her standard work bun that looks so tight it has to hurt. No wonder she’s such a jerk. I ignore her as best I can.

“God, she’s such a cunt,” Sarah whispers once we’re out of earshot. “Hey, are you up for lunch? Work sucks without you.”

“Of course.” I drop my purse at my desk.

Ryan glances over from his computer, gives me the most half-hearted nod in history, then immediately looks away. My chest tightens with irritation mixed with hurt. He’s been like this ever since he learned I was staying with the guys. Pouting. All niceties long gone. I guess if I won’t go out with him, I’m not worth his time.

Asshole.

Between him and Laura, I’m sure Sarah’s been miserable. “Maybe we can go out?” I could definitely use the space away from those two.

“It’s a date. I’ll make sure to wear something sexy,” she says with a wink before heading back to her desk as well.

Laughing, I shake my head and sit down. She’s ridiculous, though that’s the type of light heartedness I could use right now. I wake up my computer and while it loads, I organize paperwork for today’s showings.

Ding.

Sighing, I prepare to sort through email, hoping none of my clients are panicking. On a normal morning, I get a few emails, but if someone freaks out, I could have dozens. Searching for a home makes people act crazy.

Ding. Ding.

Still normal, though I frown slightly. I’m not expecting any urgent responses today. A client must be worried.

Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding.

My hands pause on the papers I’m sorting. That’s not normal.

Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding.

Dread wraps around me like a heavy blanket as the alerts keep coming, one after another in rapid succession. Not normal at all. This isn’t a client panicking. This is something else. My heart slams against my ribs as I slowly look up at my monitor, fear flooding through my veins.

Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding.

The inbox floods with emails, one after another, and I catch glimpses of the subject lines as they pour in:

YOU CAN’T HIDE FROM ME

I KNOW WHERE YOU SLEEP

STUPID WHORE THINKS SHE CAN RUN

THOSE BOYS CAN’T PROTECT YOU

WE’LL BE TOGETHER SOON ENOUGH

My hands shake as I stare at the screen, frozen in place. More keep coming, filling my inbox faster than I can process. There are so many the computer can’t handle it. The inbox glitches as it loads email after email. The subject lines get more and more unhinged, more violent. The tremors run up my arms, shooting through every limb until every part of me is trembling.

“Lily?” Sarah’s voice sounds far away. “Are you okay?”

I can’t answer. Can’t move. Can’t do anything but watch my screen fill with threats and rage and promises of what’s coming for me. The words blur together as my vision goes fuzzy around the edges.

“Lily!” Sarah turns my chair. “What’s wrong? You’re shaking.”

“I need—” My voice comes out as a croak. “I need to call the cops.”

Sarah glances at my computer screen and her eyes flare. “Oh my God.”