“I don’t know. I thought Nelson sent him away. I didn’t know the guy would turn up dead.”

“You didn’t know any of it,” I said. “Just leave me here and I’ll call the police. I’ll back you up. Quit now. You warned me, remember?”

Layla gave the smallest nod and sat up straighter. For a moment, I thought I had her.

“Go,” I said. “Erik needs you.”

Layla’s face sagged into something that should have been a smile, but it was ghoulish and melancholy. “He doesn’t need me. He never needed me. He needs Brenae.”

The office phone rang and Layla answered. She listened, nodding, shrinking into herself. Then she hung up and strode to the door with her old full-hipped sway, the soaked dress clinging to her. At the threshold, she snapped off the light, casting herself in silhouette.

“You don’t seem like a bad person,” she said. “But you let yourself get used.”

WHEN I WOKE AGAIN, THE light was still out in the office, but not in the hall. A wedge of glow hit the floor by the threshold, faintly illuminating the rest of the room. I felt someone else’s presence, someone sitting where Layla had sat, before I turned and saw him, slumped, heavy shouldered. Without his deep tan and cap of silver hair, his form looked thug-like and heavy. There was something misshapen about his head. He did not move as I pushed myself up, but I felt him watching.

“Where’s Layla?” Despite everything, I was alarmed for her. “What did you do to her?”

He remained silent, regarding me. Then his hand reached up to gently touch the side of his head, and I saw now that his ear was dangling, as if ripped from the side of his skull. His fingers dropped, covered in dark smears.

I scrambled toward the door, my weak limbs flailing. He rose and strode past me, the bloody, mutilated ear catching the light, trickles of red down the side of his neck. With a flick, he slammed the door, casting us in darkness. The only source of light was a thermostat on the wall beside the hidden door, which read thirty-eight degrees. My head slurred at this information. I couldn’t imagine what it meant.

“I wanted you to be awake, that’s all.” Nelson’s voice fumbled, as if he couldn’t remember what he wished to say. He stood over me. “To see what was done to me. Do you see it?”

I crawled for the door again, my hands slapping the floor. I hadn’t heard him lock it. There was still a chance. But my limbs refused to coordinate and then his hands were on me, shoving though my armpits, so that he was holding me up from behind, dangling like a doll. I could feel his chest against my spine, his thighs shoving mine across the room. “Do you see it?”