Although maybe the real problem was that nothing to do with Wyatt felt simple.
Not that anything in my life felt simple at the moment.
Once seated on my couch, I took out my phone again, but this time to search for the address for the South Paws Veterinary Clinic. It was located within walking distance of the Mirage. Ignoring Wyatt’s message—which seemed to call to me like a siren singing to a doomed sailor—I sent a text to Theo instead.
Then I killed some time by looking at online job boards, which didn’t exactly help to boost my mood, and by doing some actual cleaning rather than just the rushed tidying I’d done before my parents had brought Livy home the day before.
As I put away the cleaning supplies and stretched out my back, my thoughts threatened to stray into dangerous territory again. I scrunched my eyes shut and forced the thoughts, and all their accompanying feelings, into a dark corner. I’d become quite good at that over the past year or so.
The door buzzer sounded, putting me instantly on edge. Had my mother decided to show up unexpectedly in the hope of gaining an edge?
I pressed the intercom button. “Yes?”
“Package for Emersyn Gray,” a man said.
With relief, I buzzed him into the building.
I opened the door to wait for him, wondering what could be in the package. I didn’t recall ordering anything recently. It wasn’t like I had money to spend on any extras lately.
I darted back inside to check my phone. Nope. No emails about orders being shipped.
The delivery guy appeared in the open doorway, so I set aside my phone.
“Emersyn?” he asked as he approached.
I smiled. “That’s me.”
“Sign here, please.” He held out his e-signature device.
I signed with my finger, and he jutted his chin at a box leaning against the wall next to the door. “It’s all yours.”
I peeked around the doorframe and saw how big the box was. “But—”
The delivery guy disappeared into the stairwell at a jog.
“What the…” I stepped out into the hall and stood staring at the box that had to be five feet wide and nearly four feet tall. The package was probably only four inches deep, but still. I hadn’t orderedanythingrecently and certainly not something the size of…whatever this was.
I checked the shipping label. Sure enough, it had my name and address on it.
With a few grunts and a colorful word or two, I maneuvered the cumbersome package into my apartment and sliced it open with a box cutter.
There was no note inside telling me who’d sent the parcel, but I didn’t need one.
As soon as I saw the large whiteboard and the accompanying markers and magnets, I knew exactly what it was meant to be:
A murder board.
I sighed as one name came to mind:
Theo.
Chapter
Twenty-Five
“We’re done here.” Theo slid her laptop into her backpack, which she then hung from the handles of her wheelchair.
“Ready, Livy?” I asked my niece.
