The world carries on as it did before; the sky blue, the trees green, the traffic a nightmare. Turning out of the graveyard I find myself stuck in a jam, cars beeping like they have the code to break the gridlock. Thinking about Danny and the cops’ visit is torturing me, making me fear all sorts of stuff. With one eye on the car in front, I take out my phone and dial his number. No answer. I dial again; again, no answer.

Where are you, Danny? Why won’t you talk to me?

Chapter Thirty

All the way home I tried to call Danny, but with no success. He’ll probably pretend he was in an important meeting and couldn’t be disturbed while he fixed some issue the world was having. But I know that’s not the case. We have a pact: phone calls must be answered no matter what, in case it’s about Mom. With no other option, I decide I’ll call to the house, later, when he’s home.

I spend the afternoon clearing out my apartment and moving my stuff into Jeff’s. It’s only temporary until I can get another job, then I’ll find another place, somewhere Stephen Black can’t find me. Thinking back on that morning, I cringe. I want to throw up. Jeff thinks I should tell Turner what happened, but I don’t want any more hassle at the moment. Turner thinks I’m crazy as it is. Which reminds me, I haven’t heard from her in a while. She’s obviously been too busy calling on my dad, and now Danny.

Closing Jeff’s door behind me, I walk down the corridor and pass my old apartment. Should I be sad? I’m not. If anything, I’m relieved I don’t have to go back in there, back to all those broken promises.

The screechy elevator takes me down to the lobby, where Lenny is snoozing behind the desk. He scrambles to his feet when I call his name.

‘Everything okay?’ he says.

‘Yes, everything is fine.’

‘Did you find out who was in your apartment?’

‘No, but I won’t be staying there anymore.’

The keys crash onto the counter when I let them drop. Lenny looks at me, mouth open like he’s expecting food.

‘But…’ He picks up the keys. ‘I’m not sure that’s how it works, Becca. I think you have to contact the leasing company,’

‘The leasing company didn’t care when I was broken into, Lenny,’ I lie, implying I notified them. ‘So they can do what they have to, but I’m out of there.’

Switching the keys from one hand to the other, Lenny looks at me, then back to the keys. I walk away, hoping he’ll buy it, that he’ll tell them I’m leaving because of the break-in. That way they might not hound me for the rent.