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My eyes well with tears as my past crawls out of a rotting grave to seize everything I’ve worked for.

Like hell.

This time I won’t let it. I’ve come too far.

For three years I’ve fought to rebuild myself. Fought for Rhys and Micky’s trust, fought for my job at the housing center to help other people who have been through the same problems I have. Three years of attending NA meetings every week. Three years of therapy with multiple therapists. Three years of rigid schedules. Three fucking years of hard-earned sobriety that I’ve fought for with everything I have, to make sure I never go back to that horrific room.

What do you want?

I wait for his response to appear.

He wants to see you.

I know who he’s referring to. I don’t know the man’s name, don’t remember his face, but his voice is one I’ll never forget. It was hollow and empty, but maybe it only seemed like that because he was sadistic. My best guess is that he was someone of importance, because he never visited me at the house. I only ever met with him at expensive hotels and I always had to look nice.

No.

You forgot how generous I was with you.

My phone rings and I jump. Unknown at the top of the screen. I stare at it in my palm, the pattern of the vibration and noise is agonizing. It feels endless, yet I’m too frozen to mute it. I watch the call disappear from the screen and the awful buzzing ceases. It rings again, this time I’m released from my stupor and I dismiss the call immediately. He texts.

Unanswered phone calls turn into house calls.

A loud knock coming from the entryway makes me jolt. My vision tunnels as I stare at the door. Another pound, my feet won’t move.

It rings again, and this time I tap the speakerphone icon to answer; I’m incapable of bringing his voice right up to my ear. I’d rather listen from a distance. The call connects, but I don’t say hello. There’s no greeting that feels appropriate. I don’t want to talk to him.

“Open the door.”

The second I hear Steve’s voice, the room spins. It’s been so long since I’ve heard him speak. I can’t believe I thought this man ever loved me, now when I hear him it just sends a sick shiver down my spine.

My voice is caught in my throat.

“If you hang up, I’ll break down the door. Don’t make me angry.”

My entire body trembles as I slowly make my way to the door. This isn’t happening. I grab a knife from the kitchen and creep closer to the entry.

“I heard your phone ring.”

My feet reach the entryway rug and I lean forward to peer through the peephole.

I gasp. It’s him.

Dull eyes are set deep in his flat, sallow skin. His hair is greasy and needs a cut. The years have not been kind to him; it appears they’ve taken more than he’s given. Has he always looked that rough?

My stomach roils and I nearly vomit, but another pound has me gulping it back down.

“Open the door, Anna.”

“How did you get in the building?” I finally whisper through the phone.

“Your neighbor happened to be walking out. Convenient timing, huh?”

“You need to leave.” I say it loud enough to be heard through the door.

“I just want to talk.”

I shake my head even though he can’t see or hear me.