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“Absolutely not.”
I crouched in front of the desk, scrabbling through the papers and bags of candy on the floor. Combing through the yanked-out drawers. Frantic, I searched again and again.
“It’s gone,” I croaked. A fist closed around my throat, dread creeping through me.
“What’s gone?” She knelt next to me and grabbed my arm. “Talk to me.”
“The money. Gone.” I felt like I was going to throw up.
“What money?”
“I saved so much.” I buried my face in my hands. “God, Iworkedfor that money — He worked so hard to save it up for me, I know he did— Jesus Christ!”
“Who?” Alexis leaned close, her eyes wide and wary. “Who’she?”
“I shouldn’t have kept it here. I just wanted to see it and know it was real. I wanted to know I was strong enough not to spend it. God.” I clutched my hair, fighting a scream. “That money was my future! I told him to take it back, but dammit, it was all mine. How could anyone—”
“Christina, talk to me.” Alexis’s voice took on some of its usual power.
“Now it’s gone. I should have just spent it!” I said hysterically. I clawed through the crap spilling from my desk drawers. “And my Adderall — Jesus…”
“Since when do you take Adderall?”
“You really think I’m so confident?” I faced my sister. “I’m alwaysmyself?”
“Baby,” she whispered, cupping my face.
“And now you’re comforting me, after you came here all upset in the rain.” Guilt seized me as I leaned on her. I pulled back and wiped my eyes. Above Alexis was my window, which I’d left ajar for Patrick’s visit. It stood wide open, the screen gone.
Jumping up, I raced to look outside. Below was the fire escape, slick with rain. Water splashed in huge puddles. No one was out there.
“Who would do this?” Alexis turned, stricken. She stared at the scarlet word on my mirror, then pointed above my desk. “What’sthat?”
Pinned to the wall was the sketch Patrick had done of me on Valentine’s Day. Naked, unashamed, sexy. Now the drawing had a long rip running from one corner almost to the other, splitting my body. The torn piece curled and flapped in the wet breeze.
Underneath it, the package with my bridesmaid’s dress was ripped. The frothy pink fabric hung out.
They’d left my laptop.
“Dexter,” I whispered.
“Dexter?”Alexis spread her hands at the mess. “Your ex? He adored you. He would never—”
“Oh, yes, he would. He wants to ruin me. He told me as much today.” I paced my wrecked room, taking stock.
“Christina. Stop. Let’s clean this up and then we can talk…”
“No. Don’t touch anything. I’m calling the police.”
“But Dexter— How could he—”
“That’s what I don’t understand. He still has a key to my place, can you believe it? I never got it back from him. He could just walk in and leave. But the window— He must have heard you knocking and climbed out. You knocked, right?”
Alexis hugged herself. “And rang the doorbell. A lot.”
“You’re still in your wet clothes. Put these on.” I grabbed some sweats from my dresser. “I’ll get you a towel, okay? I’ll fix you a hot drink in the kitchen while I call the police.”
“First tell me what’s going on.” Alexis’s voice rose, sharp like I’d never heard it. “I’m not dumb. You haven’t been cleaning floors, Christina.”
