I set the basket back down and pluck it out, finding a folded sheet of lined paper.
Did I leave some of my class notes in here? No. I only use the nightstand on the other side of the bed. This one is purely decorative.
I unfold it, finding unfamiliar short spiky handwriting that fills the page.
Maybe from the previous tenant?
Then I see it.
At the bottom, the note is signed,A man who does not exist.
The paper crumples a bit in my grip as something cold slithers into my chest.
When he came back in here, I thought he was removing one last listening device he'd hoped to sneak past me. Was he actually leaving this?
My eyes skim back to the top and read the beginning completely of their own volition.
I don't think I've ever written a girl a note, let alone an apology letter, so this might be a complete disaster, but I have to try. First off, I know there's nothing I can say or write that will fix what I broke. This isn't about that. I'm trying to?—
I open the drawer and stuff the sheet of paper back inside, slamming it shut without finishing the rest.
A shiver races through me and I shake it off. Pretend I never found it.
It's time to go.
I call for Ellie. I could leave her for the couple of hours it'll take to wash and dry—and send the first communication to Ambrose's people—but I know she's dying to see them, too. She whines at my secret phone every time she hears Seven's voice through the receiver.
"Ellie, let's go!"
She barks and races from her bed, almost knocking into my legs in her haste.
I fumble with the door and almost drop my basket when it opens to reveal a person standing on the other side. His hand is raised as if he'd been about to knock.
"Fuck," I breathe. "You scared me."
I think I recognize him, but it's not until I see the binder in his hand that I realize he's in my Introduction to Music Business class. Actually, I think he's in two of my classes. I have no idea what his name is, but he's the one no one can sit behind in the lecture hall because he's so fucking tall it's impossible to see the front of the class over his blond head, even with tiered seating.
"Sorry." He holds his hands up. "You forgot this in class, and that girl you sit next to said you live in these apartments."
I frown.That girlis Maisie, and at first, I think he might be lying, but I did actually mention to her that I live in the apartments on Douglas Street. Why she would tell him that is the mystery. "You didn't have to bring it, but thanks."
I take the binder and drop it on top of my clothes, and then realize something. "How did you know which one it was?"
I didn't tell Maisie that.
"I might've knocked on every door leading up to this one."
He looks uncomfortable as he shrugs, but something about his awkwardness comes across as distinctly artificial.
My frown deepens. "Well, thanks."
Ellie nudges past my legs, sniffing at him tentatively. His eyes widen when they catch sight of her. "Oh, you have a dog."
"Ellie," I tell him. "Actually, we were just leaving."
I gesture past him, to where my slightly improved shitbox is parked in the space down the short walk from the front door.
He backs out of my path, and I juggle the basket, locking the door behind me. But when I spin back around to leave, he's still standing there.
