He flashed me a smile as he gathered his things. “Anything for Serena’s roommate. We’ll get you back on your feet.”

I read between the lines. He might be doing this to help me out, but there was a bonus for him involved. The sooner I got a job, the sooner I’d move out…but I didn’t know how I’d afford rent on barista wages. At least not in Clinton Hill.

Still, I would take whatever I could get. I’d proved that tonight, auditioning for that stupid asshole and his stupid dimpled smile. Ugh. At least I would never have to see him again.

* * *

A taxi horn blared louder than any alarm. I jolted up from the couch, heart hammering hard. Dawn light filtered in through the cracked blinds hanging over the single window. I glanced at the clock. It was only six. The symphony of the city began far too early.

After I climbed out of my makeshift bed, folded the blankets, and took a shower, I whipped up some breakfast and threw on the television. Noah had told me to be ready for my interview at ten, so I had a few hours to kill. When I was halfway into my stack of pancakes, Serena joined me on the floor with a bowl of cereal. There wasn’t room in the apartment for a dining table.

“You’re up early,” she said as she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes.

“Couldn’t sleep.” I didn’t mention the horns. Somehow, Serena always slept right through them. “Thought I might as well get up and get my day started.”

“You’ll be alright today?” she asked as she swirled her spoon through the milk. “I don’t want to abandon you after last night.”

Serena worked in Manhattan as one of the youngest lawyers ever hired by her firm. With that designation came long hours and little time spent at home.

“I’ve got that interview at the cafe. I’ll be fine.”

“Stay away from the ice cream,” she warned.

I opened my mouth to throw back a retort, but a voice from the television cut through my thoughts. Serena seemed to notice it at the same time I did. We both twisted toward the screen.

“A new victim was found in Hell’s Kitchen last night. Her throat was slashed, just like the others.” The reporter’s lipsticked mouth was grim, solemn. “The police are investigating several leads, but…”

I sucked in a sharp breath and met Serena’s wide gaze. “Another one? I thought those murders had stopped. Didn’t they catch the guy?”

“They did. He’s in jail…they must have been wrong…Mia, you were in Hell’s Kitchen last night,” Serena breathed as she leaned forward. “That could have been you.”

My heart pulsed painfully in my chest. She was right.