I was about to open the fridge and check what food she had when my cell buzzed. I pulled it out of my pocket and saw the message from Chase.
Chase:
Got the security footage.
I didn’t have much time left until Flora came home, and while the prospect of seeing her was exciting, I doubted she would be happy to find me lurking in her apartment like a creeper. So, I gathered my things and headed down to my SUV. From the driver’s seat, I kept an eye on the door to Flora’s building while grabbing my phone.
Making a mental checklist of everything Flora needed, I opened the security footage and started scrolling through. Most of it was innocent enough, students milling around, chatting to one another as they walked wherever they were going.
It took a while to find what I wanted. Video of Flora walking home. The moment she popped onto the screen, I was paying attention. She was hugging herself as she strode quickly to her place, head down.
So, she didn’t notice the hooded figure following her.
Or waiting outside her building for almost an hour after she went in.
Rage, unlike anything I had experienced before, boiled under my skin. My vision went red as I watched the figure stand outside Flora’s home, lying in wait.
For what, I had no idea.
Chapter 8
Flora
“Ican’t thank you enough for this,” Summer said as she barreled into my apartment, Tupperware in hand.
“You know you’re welcome anytime,” I told her, following her into my tiny apartment.
“I’ve got cookies for you,” she declared, handing me the Tupperware.
“Are these ones edible?” I asked cautiously. Her baking endeavors were somewhat hit-or-miss, I had discovered.
Summer’s face fell slightly, and she grimaced. “Maybe. Either way, I also got you an iced coffee.” She smiled, holding up the beverage.
“That, I will accept,” I said, taking both items from her.
Summer was one of the few friends I had made, and it had been a total accident. My parents refused to believe the cost of living in California, so I was left pretty much on my own when it came to financing things. To help my bank account, I decided to take on some tutoring work.
The first time I met Summer, I instantly liked her. She was doing her best to get a bookkeeping qualification while being asingle mother. Her son was only a year old, so her schedule was somewhat scattered.
Most tutors had told her flat out that they wouldn’t help her, because they wanted a student who could commit to the same time slot every week.
I, on the other hand, was desperate for money and, after a few sessions, realized she was really determined to make it work.
So, several tutoring sessions slowly turned into a friendship.
“Anytime I send him to day care, he gets sick. I swear it’s a breeding ground for germs.” Summer groaned as she sank into my lumpy armchair.
“Unfortunately, from what I understand, that pretty much describes day care,” I said, coming over to join her.
She placed her textbooks on the small coffee table and turned to me. “Well, it’s not like I can keep him at home all day. I have classes to attend.”
“You know I’m not judging, and I’m always here with notes to help,” I said, picking up one of her books.
We had a few classes that overlapped, but she took most of hers online. There were only a select few that required in-person attendance.
“I swear I would have flunked out months ago if it hadn’t been for you, Flora,” Summer said. “There isn’t enough iced coffee in the world. Thank you.”
“You know I’m happy to help,” I reminded her.
