The second I hit call, I’m glad I’m able to pull my gaze from my phone. So I can scan the area around me. The streets are near empty at this hour.
Why couldn’t Whiterun have a better nightlife, dammit?
The hair on the back of my neck prickles. Ever since Ruin and Wolf interrogated me at the clubhouse, I’ve had the feeling of being watched.
I damn near pissed my pants a couple of days ago, when I thought somebody broke into my apartment.
Shit.
Voicemail.
“R-Ruin,” I whisper after the beep. “I… that woman from the picture—Leila, or whatever her name is—she… she was at my salon tonight at 8:20 p.m. I thought she wouldn’t show up for her session but… well she came late.” My voice wouldn’t stop shaking, but I hammer on. “You told me to inform you so… err… yeah. She was here. That’s it.”
The moment I hang up, I breathe a sigh of relief. My apartment complex is now in view.
I’m almost speed walking, my steps jittery and stiff. But I don’t dare look back. Because something tells me I’ll come face to face with that woman.
911? Should I call 911?
Fuck.
I round the corner to take the side entrance, looking over my shoulder. Praying someone isn’t actually behind me when—
Thud!
I collide into someone. “S-Sorry,” I stammer, but I freeze when I look up.
“Oh hey,” she says, her smile blindingly sweet. “It’s you!”
I swallow hard, trying to sober up the fearful expression I’m probably carrying. It doesn’t help that Leila herself is in front of me. “Oh uhh… hi.”
Her smile drops slightly at my awkward greeting. “I was actually coming back to the salon,” she continues, ignoring the shivering mess in front of her. “I think I left my earbuds there.”
I clear my throat. “Oh we… we closed half an hour ago. Y-You can come tomorrow? I’ll message my boss to keep them safe.”
She doesn’t answer. Simply stares—right into my soul. Her eyes become unfocused and wide. Almost calculating.
“Sarah, right?” she asks, but her mouth barely moves.
I nod shakily.
Her face suddenly drops to a sympathetic frown. The change is so animated that I get whiplash.
“You’re not a club girl for the Wardens, right?”
I take a fumbling step back.
She takes a step forward. “You’re also not an Ol’ Lady… or a club princess.” Her voice dips into something almost sorrowful. Her brows crease like she’s genuinely disappointed.
Then she sighs dramatically, licking her lips like she’s deep in thought.
My breathing picks up when her head jerks up, a smile painted over that doesn’t reach her eyes.
“Do you still have both your kidneys?”
“W-Wha—”
“Oh, your skin is near perfect,” she breathes out wistfully. Her hand suddenly brushes against my arm, and I stumble back enough that I’m no longer on the sidewalk.
