I glanced at the open window that led back into the Brooklyn apartment. It was in the shape of an L. Along with a minuscule kitchen, the longer section was just big enough for a two-seater couch, a small TV, and a few cluttered shelves. The smaller corner fit nothing but a bed. Serena had hung up a beaded curtain between the two spaces, so we could have the illusion of privacy, but we could still hear each other breathe at night. The place was barely big enough for Serena, let alone the two of us, but she’d insisted I crash on her couch until I found a job and a place for myself.

Unfortunately, my past refused to let me move on.

“Doesn’t matter,” Serena insisted with a fierce smile. “This is your place for as long as you need it to be. Noah and I will go somewhere else. There’s a new bar in Bushwick I’ve been meaning to check out.”

“You’ve been dying for some alone time with him.” I ducked through the window and jumped down onto the warped hardwood floor. “I’ll make myself scarce for a few hours. No big deal.”

Serena followed me inside, frowning. “Mia, I don’t want you to feel like you have to do this. Where will you even go?”

I shrugged and grabbed my knee-high boots from the rack beside the door. “Exploring. It’s New York City. It’s not like I’ll be bored.”

Before she could object, I tossed her a smile, grabbed the handle, and tugged open the door. I jogged down the three flights of stairs and pushed out into the night. Hordes of people bustled past. The commuters with their backpacks and scuffed sneakers they changed into after a day spent in office shoes. Then, there were the ‘artistes’ with their hipster beards and artisan coffee cups. The harried mothers and the children, the grocery store workers, and the locals who had lived in the neighborhood for decades.

I joined the fray, wandering aimlessly through the streets, until a flyer nailed to a telephone pole caught my eye. The big bold letters announced a job opening for a club in Hell’s Kitchen, of all places. They needed a dancer, someone to wriggle around in one of the elevated cages while the drunken partiers watched. Auditions were open only on Monday nights when the club was shut to patrons.

There was a strange symbol drawn at the bottom of the flyer. Squiggly lines wrapped around each other, ending in what looked like a devil tail.

Tonight was Monday. I shook my head and stepped back. It was a crazy idea. A dancer at a club? My parents would hate that, not that they would ever hear about it. They hadn’t spoken to me in months. Unlike Serena, they believed the lies about me.