nce foll

door on the left-the quiet was not comforting. It was the kind t

t. Everything was softened: the gold-thread curtains, the cream carpet, the low glo

g in luxury. She was

the center,

by the window, the cushioned armchair-all looked like they belonged in a magazine spre

s. Likely bulletproof. Likely escape-proof. She leaned close, peered outside. Beyond t

ay. To

pinched behi

corner. A small black camera lens, recessed but visible

inked

e was being watched.

o the closet

st

asual wear. Brands she'd never worn. The scent of new fabric and expensive perfum

was touching so

nged by type. Brushes lined up symmetrically. A drawer opene

sen by her. But someone

d back, su

g here wa

d sat on the edge of the bed. The m

ood up

in it. She didn't want to

ned the drawer, expecting a Bible o

here was a

eath c

t up with sh

the light. She wore her green sweater and had her earbuds i

r knowledge. Lon

roat b

ack into the drawer

idn't

om and saw it was stocked wit

into the sleepwear th

nd caught her own reflection lookin

t sleep i

ow blanket. From here, she could watch the night creep along the marble drive. Trees ru

her forehead

e reme

-

le's apartment had alw

the chipped tile and the threadbare curtains. Her uncle used to pace when he was on t

lder in his hand and a gleam in hi

ike he was proud of

g to fix eve

from the dishes. "

re special. Someon

derstood then

likely containe

-

ra whirr

y st

ad turned. Just a hair. J

d at it.

all. But sharp. A spark i

barely audible.

rep

ours

se didn'

wat

etting her head re

come easily

she dreamed not

ocking the door

ng it all