My hands brace on my knees before I get a chance to think. I close my eyes and shudder, cold chills pricking the back of my neck.
She’s never going to speak to me again.
I’m going to lose her.
I’m going to lose her.
I squat and thread my hands behind my neck, pushing my hood up in case someone comes around the corner.
I don’t have a pep talk. There’s no good reason for me to knock on this door. There’s no positive hope pushing me to see her again, no silver lining, not even a shred of a shadow able to dim this blinding light.
All there is, is loss on the other side.
I don’t even think Death will want me after this.
I’m forcing my legs to straighten when the door down the hall opens. I quickly set the fast food bag in my hand on the ground and get my phone out to take a photo of it, pretending that I’m just a delivery person bringing her lunch.
“Hey, I’ll take whatever she doesn’t eat,” the guy says.
I nod and say, “Yep,” without moving my head in his direction.
I don’t have time or energy to look their way, nor do I have any desire to enter into a conversation with neighbors who might be chatty.
The second one bumps into me when they pass. It almost makes me shift forward, balance skewing. If I wasn’t trying to be discreet, I would say something to him—
Wait, why does his voice sound familiar?
My entire body stills. I angle my head in their direction, straining to block out any outside noise to hear their voices, ears perked as they continue down the hall. They’re still chatting. Even so, I can’t hear them as well as I want.
How do I know his voice?
I tuck my phone in my pocket, pull up my pink and black skull gaiter mask over my nose, and step back from Bonnie’s door.
And for whatever reason, my stomach is in knots.
A memory pricks the back of my mind. It’s an itch behind my ear. That voice… the tone… I know I’ve heard it. Somethingdoesn’t feel right. I might be completely out of my mind. It’s more than likely nothing.
Still…
I follow them all the way to the elevator, trying to make out if the backs of their heads look familiar at all. They pause at the doors, and I do the same, pretending as if I’m heading down so I can deliver another order.
They’re talking about a hockey game, I think. The one on the left’s voice… The taller one with the hat…
Where, where,wheredo I know his voice from?
The lift bell dings as the doors open. They head inside first, and when the one with the hat turns around, blood stops flowing through my veins.
Are youfuckingkidding me?
Shit.
It’s Trevor—Rad’s friend.
Move your feet.
MOVE YOUR FEET.
You cannot stand there. You cannot back out now.
