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The woman tilted her head. “Maybe.” Still unconvinced, she continued her perusal. “You don’t live here.”
“You’re right.” I pointed behind me with my thumb. “But I’m friends with Catalina, your neighbor. I’m staying at her place for a couple of days.”
“I don’t know any Catalina.”
My expression fell. “Catalina Martín. Short? Brunette? Around my age? You don’t know her?” The lady blinked. “She… She…” Why couldn’t I think of anything that would describe my best friend? “Oh God, I swear I know her—”
She waved a hand in the air, stopping me. “I was testing you.” A low chuckle left her. “Always says hi, no partying, no stinky animals, and a very tall boyfriend. I like her. And I like him, too.”
“That’s the one, yes.”
“Did she have anything to do with the hassle going on in the hallway two nights ago?”
I flinched. “Oh, that was actually me and my…” I trailed off, not knowing how to finish that. My roommate? My best friend’s cousin I mistook for a burglar? “Lucas. NotmyLucas, but just Lucas. I’m sorry for the trouble.” I paused, growing uncomfortable. I looked at the loveseat once again. “So… Do you think we can move this? Together?”
Lina’s neighbor gave me one more once-over. “Fine, I guess you’ll do. I’m Adele, by the way.”
“Thanks, Adele,” I said, gripping the side of the seat with both hands. Rolling my shoulders back, I readied myself to give Adele some instructions. “I think we should push it back inside, so we can maneuver it. So, at the count of three we are going to do that, okay?”
She nodded, murmuring something that sounded a lot likesmart-ass.
“Okay.” I sighed, deciding to ignore that. “Three… Two… One… Push!”
And… the thing didn’t budge an inch.
Mostly because Adele had pulled.
“It’s all right,” I said, keeping my frustration off my voice. “We can give it another try. Make sure topush, yeah? Push it back inside.”
Adele shot me a dirty look. “Don’t use that tone with me, missy. I know what I’m doing.”
Oh dear God. I really didn’t have time for this.
I gave her a big, toothy smile. “Just trying to help, Adele.”
“Trying with those spaghetti arms,” she muttered under her breath.
I winced, looking down at my arms.
Something occurred to me. “Adele, are we moving this in or—”
“Let’s give it another try.” She ignored me. “Now.”
Battling whether I should question her further, I braced both hands on the edge.
I looked over at her, waiting for instructions, but Adele’s expression had changed. The blood had drained from her face, her skin paling and her eyes going glassy.
I placed my hand on her shoulder. “Adele? Are you okay? Do you need to sit down?”
The woman stared into space for what seemed like a full minute, not responding to any of my attempts at moving her or making her return to herself.
Alarm pounded through me.
I couldn’t get her back into her apartment because the entrance was blocked by the loveseat. Calling for help felt like a waste when she wasn’t hurt. She was just… not here. As if her mind had left her.
Small beads of sweat formed in the back of my neck.
I called her name one last time with no response.
