A knock on the door of Room 105.
Ivy jumps. It’s a perfect flinch.
"Who is it?" she calls out, her voice trembling.
"It’s Kane," a voice answers. "Thomas. Open the door, Ivy."
She gets up. She walks to the door. She undoes the chain.
She opens it.
Detective Kane steps inside.
He looks frantic. He is wearing his cheap suit, but he has abandoned the tie. He looks like a man on the edge. He scans the room, his hand hovering near his hip holster.
"Are you alone?" he asks.
"Yes," Ivy whispers. "He doesn't know I’m here. He thinks I’m at the studio."
She backs away from him.
"You said you had evidence," Kane says, closing the door and locking it. "You said you found the gun."
"I did," she lies. "It’s... it’s in the bag."
She points to a duffel bag on the floor. It contains a gun—a Glock with the serial numbers filed off, unregistered, wiped of prints. A throwaway.
Kane walks over to the bag. He unzips it. He sees the gun.
He looks up at her. His eyes are burning with a savior’s zeal.
"This is it," he says. "This is enough for probable cause. We can bring him in."
He stands up and walks toward her.
"You did the right thing, Ivy. I know you’re scared. I know what he does to people."
"He’s a monster," Ivy says, tears spilling down her cheeks. "He watches me. He tracks me. Look."
She lifts the leg of her jeans. She shows him the platinum anklet.
"He tagged me like a dog."
Kane stares at the tracker. His face twists in disgust.
"I’m going to cut that off you," he promises. "I have a bolt cutter in the car. We’re going to get it off, and then I’m taking you to a safe house. He will never touch you again."
He reaches out. He puts his hands on her shoulders.
"You’re safe now."
I grip the edge of the laptop.Don't touch her.
"Detective," Ivy says, looking up at him with wide, wet eyes. "Thomas. If I leave with you... he’ll find me. He has people everywhere."
"I’ll protect you."
"Will you?" She steps closer to him. She places her hands on his chest.
