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I pound harder, wishing I could just break the door down, but with how old everything in this apartment is, the doors must have been replaced just before we moved in because they are solid. “Answer me, Willa!” She isn’t a deep sleeper. She has more trouble sleeping than I do.
I run back to my room in search of a paperclip so I can pop the lock on her door. My hands tremble as I yank open my desk drawer, finding my mess of sticky notes for my case study. These notes are likely irrelevant now. I push them to the side and grab a paperclip, then return to Willa’s door, doing everything I can to steady my hand. After a few seconds of moving the paperclip around, the pop gives me relief. I grapple the knob and push, but the door doesn’t budge. She has a chain on the inside of her bedroom door, one I didn’t know existed, and definitely did not exist until this week. I can only see the side of her dresser and nothing more. “Willa?”
FORTY-EIGHT
THURSDAY, JUNE 15TH 10:00 AM
My head pounds like a balloon expanding then releasing forced air, stretching past its elasticity. There’s no one to rely on, not a trustworthy person within distance and it seems like the world has been charging toward me with pitchforks. I don’t want to keep wondering what’s next or who will poke their head out from around the corner.
All I know is, I’m stronger than this. I always have been.
“Willa, I know you’re in there. Open the door!” I plead. “He’s gone. It’s just me. I need you. I’m freaking out right now. Please, Willa.” I pound on her door with my fists over and over, wondering why she won’t say anything or release the chain.
What if she’s not okay? She wouldn’t hurt herself, but I don’t know if someone else is in there who might have.
I run back to my room, which now feels more like a crime scene, and search under my pillows and comforter for my phone, before recalling I left it on the bedside table. I snatch it up and stumble to unlock the display.Come on. I search through my contacts for Willa’s number and call her as I press my ear up to the connecting wall. I hear a repeating buzz that continues until her voicemail picks up. “Willa!” I shout through the wall. “Answer me!”
I return to my list of contacts to find Jerry’s number. I don’t know if he’s in there with her or at home, or what to say to him if he picks up, but I need to make sure Willa is okay. The phone rings, but I don’t hear buzzing on the other side of the wall. The call goes to voicemail.
I end the call and stare at the screen on my phone, debating what to do. I can call the police.
I would have to tell them the man I’ve been spending time with has been at the forefront of a criminal setup, which they are already aware of. And my roommate’s door is locked. Just locked. I don’t know where she is because she won’t answer my calls, neither will her boyfriend.
I might be beyond help from the police.
I could break down Willa’s door. I clutch my phone in my hand and race back into the hallway. “I’m going to break the door down and we’ll have to replace it. Just unlock the door, Willa. You’re leaving me with no choice. Please.”
I drop my forehead against the door and wait for a hint of sound but there’s nothing. I take a couple of steps back and run into the door, using my shoulder to break the chain link. A searing pain is the only result. The door doesn’t budge. I kick the door with the heel of my foot several times, trying to just break through the wood at this point, but nothing I do leaves anything beyond a mark.
“Willa?” I cry out again in between ragged breaths. I slide my back down against the length of the door and toss my head back as I reach the ground. “Why?”
I’m not sure how long I’ve been sitting against Willa’s door, staring at the stucco wall across from me when I hear movementfrom within her room. I scoot away from the door and pull myself up along the wall.
“Haley?” My name sounds like it’s been dragged over a cheese grater, but nonetheless, she’s speaking from the other side of the door.
“Willa?”
The chain releases and her door creaks open. She’s standing in the doorway, her eyes red and puffy. She’s in an oversized T-shirt long enough to cover the shorts I assume she’s wearing.
“Where were you? Are you okay?” If she is okay, she should be asking me ifI’mokay.
“Hales, this is too much,” she croaks, holding her fists up to her chest.
I glance around as if “this” is something I’ll see around me. “What’s too much? I don’t understand. Why was your room chain-locked?”
Willa doesn’t move from the spot she’s standing on, and it feels like there is more than just a bedroom between us.
“The danger and trouble you’ve been in for the past two weeks…it’s been too much” she says. She says this like I’m not the one directly impacted.
“Yes, I’m aware of what I’ve been through,” I say, curtly.
“You aren’t a risk-taker. You’re a calculated decision-maker, but suddenly it’s like you’re ready to go bungee jumping off the Newport bridge.” I would never do that.
“Why were you locked in your room?” I ask, trying to cautiously demand an answer.
She leans her shoulder against the doorframe. “With everything that was on the news last night… I’m kind of freaked out.”
“They found the baby,” I say, repeating her very own words from last night. Of course, I’m leaving out the part why Liamstormed out of the apartment. I’m still coming to terms with that portion of things.
