t. I started packing my bag, shoving my laptop, notebooks, and pens

elevato

my throat. My brothers couldn't be here

st. The handle didn' t turn. Of course. I had locked it. I let out a s

eard a so

man's voice, smooth and friendly. "Is anyone in there?

ilent, my

e continued, dripping with false concern. "It's pretty lat

oth. The perf

swering. Playi

ng near the door. My stomach twiste

ive up and leave. But the knocking came

ying to bother you, I promise. My name

ed. I walked to the door, my posture straight, and spoke th

, I know this is forward, but I was just leaving myself. I'd feel a lot bette

challenge." The words from

g him might make things worse. I de

y to pick me up," I said, unlocking the door and opening

ed smile and kind eyes that didn't seem kind at all up close. He was holding his ph

t's great. Safety in numbers." He recovered quickly. "I'm Mark, b

are. And I'm not interested in

o. It's about sending a positive message.

oice colder than I intended. "I need to

ne three times in quick succession. It was a silent panic signal I' d set up wi

eisty. I

et away with that tone.

ere getting mo

pping to a more intimate tone. "Look, Sarah. I know you're an architect at Miller & Hayes.

pine. He knew my name.

?" I asked, my hand t

planation. He reached out, his fingers brushing against my arm on the door.

shock, invasive and wrong. I s

me," I said,

th a loud rattle. I leaned against it, my hear

r side. "Alright, Sarah. Alr

I waited, listening, until the sound faded com

gone. F