“I came home sooner than planned. What are you doing here?”
“I—my god, yourface. Ally, what the fuck happened?”
“I was attacked last night—at Roger’s. It’s this crazy nightmare story. But I’m fine, and they caught the guy.”
“This is horrible. Why didn’t youcallme?”
“I was going to, but I’ve got to get upstairs and talk to Hugh. Something’s come up.”
“Are things okay with you guys?”
I glance down. “I don’t think so.”
When I look up, she’s shaking her head so that her earrings, long gold ones of her own design, swing back and forth. “I’m so sorry, Ally. I’ve been a terrible friend when you needed me the most.”
“Gabby, don’t worry about it, I know how sick you’ve been. Can we talk later today or tomorrow? I’ll bring you up to speed on everything, I promise.”
“Of course. In the meantime, is there anything I can do?”
“No, but I should really go. I— Wait, so why were you here?”
“Oh, I was dropping something off for you. Um, a little gift.” She seems to read the confusion in my eyes. “I mean, I knew you wouldn’t be able to get it for a few days, but I was in the neighborhood, so I left it with the concierge.”
“That’s really nice, Gabby, thank you.” I hug her again. “Talk later.”
After leaving her behind, I hurry into the lobby, my legs still aching from last night. The doorman, it turns out, is behind the front desk, filling in while the concierge’s on break.
“Do you have a package for me?” I ask. “Something that my friend just dropped off?”
He smiles, steps through the open doorway to the storage area, and returns a minute later.
“I don’t see it, Ally,” he tells me. “So it must have been picked up already.”
Which means Hugh is upstairs. At least he hasn’t fled the premises, too nervous or ashamed to come clean as promised. As I head toward the elevator, I can feel the dread swelling in me.
I enter the apartment and find the foyer dark and the great room empty. After parking my roller bag in the great room, I grab a small bottle of sparkling water from the fridge and make my way down the corridor to the bedroom. It’s empty, too, and the drapes have been pulled closed. I drop my purse on the bed and reach for a lamp, but before I have a chance to turn the switch, I hear a noise behind me and spin around. Hugh’s in the doorway, standing motionless.
“You made good time,” he says. His voice sounds joyless.
“Yup. Where were you just now?”
“In the den, working.”
He fumbles along the wall for the overhead light switch and taps it on.
“Ally, your face!” he exclaims, as shocked as Gabby was. He steps closer. “Do the police know any more since we spoke?”
“Not that Roger or I have heard.”
“You really should see a doctor, Ally.”
“I don’t want to see a doctor, Hugh. I want to talk to you.”
His shoulders sag, an ominous sign. “Why don’t we go to the other room?”
I follow him to the great room, where I perch on the edge of the armchair as he plops onto the sofa across from me. My breath feels trapped in my chest, unable to escape.
“I don’t know where to start, exactly,” he says.
