I wince, squeezing her hand back. "But I don't have a choice."
"There's always a choice, Giulia. Even if all the options are terrible."
I think about the mask in my bag. About the club and the choice I'm about to make.
"Yeah," I say softly. "I guess there is."
We watch a movie—some romantic comedy that Liesl loves, and I can barely focus on. Around eleven, Liesl yawns. "I'm exhausted. Do you mind if we call it a night?"
"Not at all. I'm tired too."
She shows me to the guest room. "Bathroom's across the hall. Help yourself to anything you need. I'm really glad you're here. We should do this more often."
"We should."If I'm not ruined by tomorrow, I think.If I still have a life to come back to.
She closes the door, and I'm alone.
I sit on the bed and listen to her moving around in her room. The sound of water running, drawers opening and closing. Eventually, everything goes quiet.
My hands are shaking as I pull the clothes from my bag. The leather skirt feels sinful against my fingers. The heels make me taller, more confident. I put on a lace bra and panties under all of it, tucking in the silk blouse. I put on the wig in front of the small mirror, securing it the way the shop owner showed me. My face transforms—the auburn hair makes me look older, more sophisticated. More like someone who belongs in that club.
I tuck the mask into my clutch bag, next to some cash and the black membership card. No phone. Nothing that could be traced back to me.
The apartment is dark and silent as I slip out of the guest room. I can hear Liesl's soft breathing from her bedroom, steady and deep. She's asleep. I move through the living room like a ghost, careful not to make a sound. My heart is pounding so hard I'm surprised it doesn't wake her.
The front door is the tricky part. I unlock it slowly, wincing at every small sound. The hallway beyond is empty—no one to see me leave.
But Carlo is downstairs. In the lobby. Waiting.
I take the back service stairs instead of the elevator, my heels clicking softly on the concrete. At each landing, I pause, listening for any sound of pursuit.
Nothing.
The building has a service entrance in the back. I push through the door and find myself in an alley, the cool night air hitting my face. I'm out.
I'm actually out.
I walk quickly to the street, my heart racing. A cab is passing, and I flag it down before I can change my mind. "Tribeca," I say, giving him the address. "The warehouse district."
He doesn't ask questions, doesn't even look at me twice. Just nods and pulls away from the curb.
I watch Liesl's building disappear behind us, and I feel something loosen in my chest. I did it. I actually did it.
Now I just have to follow through.
The drive takes twenty minutes, and I spend every second of it spiraling.What am I doing? This is insane.I should tell the driver to turn around, should go back to Liesl's apartment, and forget this ever happened.
But I can’t. This might be reckless and dangerous, and definitely the stupidest thing I've ever done. But it's mine. This choice, this night, this moment—it's all mine.
I'm so tired of nothing being mine.
The city lights blur past the window, and I focus on breathing, staying calm. Not letting the fear win. The driver pulls up to an address in Tribeca—an unmarked building that looks like any other warehouse conversion. There's no sign, no indication of what's inside. Just a single door with a discreet camera above it.
"This is it," the driver says. I slip the mask on and then pay him in cash, and step out onto the sidewalk, my legs shaking.
Thisisit. This is the moment where I either go through with this or I don't.
I look up at the building, at the camera watching me, at the door that leads to something I can't take back. I adjust my mask, making sure it's secure. Making sure I'm hidden.
