But he could still go after me. And they let him.
I look at the letter again.
Why did I do that? Why did I hit him? My body just moved, that’s the honest answer, but honest doesn’t pay rent, and I’ve got enough left in my account to cover this month and then I’m looking at bad options. I was already looking at bad options. Now they’re just worse and closer.
“Miranda.” Brooke’s voice is careful. “Talk to me.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine.”
“I will be.” I stand up slowly. “I just need to sleep. I haven’t really slept.”
She stands too, then reaches for my arm before she stops herself. “Let me stay.”
“Go home, Brooke.” I say it as gently as I can. “I mean it. I’m okay. I just need a few hours and then I’ll be able to think straight.”
She reads my face. She’s known me long enough to know when I need space and when I’m lying about needing space, and right now the answer is both, and she knows that too. She picks up her bag and squeezes my good wrist once carefully.
“Call me when you wake up,” she murmurs. “I mean it. I’ll be here in ten minutes if you need me.”
“I know.”
I watch her go. Wait for the door to close. Then I sit back down on the couch and don’t sleep.
The letter is still on the table.
The apartment has a particular sound when it’s empty. I know it well. I’ve been listening to it for years.
Three knocks on the door.
I drop my hand, looking at the door. It’s probably Brooke, back because she decided she wasn’t leaving after all.
I get up, cross the room, and open it.
Two men.
Not Brooke.
The one in front is big, wide through the shoulders, with the kind of face that hasn’t arranged itself into a pleasant expression in years. I know him. Not his name, not personally, but I know what he is. I’ve seen him before, in a parking lot, with Scarface and another man who had held me against a pillar while someone hit me.
Kozlov’s people.
“Miss Carver.” His voice is unhurried. “Tough week.”
My hand tightens on the door. I start to push it closed. His foot goes into the gap.
“Mr. Kozlov heard you lost your job.” He tilts his head slightly. “Convenient timing for us, less so for you. You won’t be making payments now.”
“Get away from my door.”
“We went to the hospital looking for you.” His sneer makes my blood run cold. “Your colleagues are very helpful. One of them in particular, Dr. Hudson. He sent his regards.”
Of course he did.
The man pushes the door open.
I stumble back, catch myself, and run.
