With numb fingers, I reach for the phone Nico left for me. It slips from my hand twice before I get a hold of it.
Fear is blossoming inside me, bigger and bigger until there’s no room for anything else.
My fingers are damp with sweat, so they keep sliding on the screen and hitting the wrong buttons. I open the email app. The map. The calendar. But not the damn contacts, so I can find Nico’s number.
Or should I call 911? But what would I tell them? I heard a strange noise? That I have no proof of there being anyone dangerous inside?
The very idea of the police accusing me of lying makes me nauseous. I can picture the grizzled cop who arrested me showing up, his ruddy face pinched with disdain as he says,“Once a liar, always a liar.”
Sweat breaks out across my body.
My head feels all floaty and not quite my own.
That logical voice in my head whispers,Get up. Close the door. Lock it. Then call Nico to find out if someone’s supposed to be here.
But the scared, irrational, emotional part of me argues,What if you’re making a big deal out of nothing? What if you cause a big scene and it’s just the housekeeper?
What if Nico calls me a liar? What if he kicks me out?
I don’t want to be here, but I’m scared to leave, too.
I hate it, feeling scared like this. Feeling weak. Wishing for Nico to be here, even as pride insists I don’t need him.
Lock the damn door,my inner voice of reason insists.Do that at least. Quickly.
Yes. Lock the door.
Shoving myself up and off the bed, I nearly topple over from the sudden movement. But I catch myself one-handed on the edge of the mattress, holding myself steady for a few seconds until I regain my balance. Though I know I’m hurrying towards the bedroom door, each step feels exponentially slower, like I’m moving through quicksand.
Frightened tears sting my eyes, turning the door into a blurred rectangle.
My heart thunders in my ears.
The door. Just get to the door. Now.
In the hallway, footsteps approach.
My chest almost explodes from fear.
I lunge for the doorknob, but I forgot about the phone still clasped tightly in my hand. The plastic case smacks against the metal knob, sending the phone flying. Time seems to slow while I watch the phone hit the carpet and skid across the floor, finally ending up somewhere beneath the bed.
This time I forgo the doorknob and fling myself at the door, putting all my weight into it.
Just as I collide with the door, it opens, knocking me back.
I crash to the floor, first smacking my ass against the hardwood, then my elbow, then my head. Stunned and in pain, I lie there like an upended turtle for several precious seconds I can’t afford to lose.
The footsteps hurry closer.
Panic squeezes my lungs.
Get up,my inner voice demands.Get. Up. Now. Don’t just lie here, helpless and?—
“Sofia!”
From above me, Nico’s worried face appears.
Nico. It was Nico. Not an intruder here to kill me.
