The lock gave, and I lunged inside. Nothing, no one, just a bathroom door to my right, open to a darkened room, the ugly twin beds with depressions in the middle, the smell of mildew. But I had heard someone! Someone had heard me. Or maybe I really was like my mother, it was true. I wasn’t special, just insane. I would grow obsessed with things and people that weren’t there, conjuring strange theories out of thin air. I sat on the edge of the bed, not ready to go outside again and face the long walk back to the shop, face Des, the rest of my messy, messed-up life.

And that’s when I saw her, the slim curve of her wrist on the floor, the pearl bracelet glowing yellow in the low light—her arm was raised above her head—the rest of her obscured by the dust ruffle on the other side of the second bed.

When I stepped around the bed, my breath caught in my throat. She looked just like the others. Her skin was pale. There was a lump above her left eye, the size of a walnut. I kneeled on the carpet, put my hand to her wrist. Her skin was clammy, cold. Nothing, nothing, and then a gentle thump of blood under my fingertips. A pulse.

I jumped when I felt something brush against my arm, but it was only the curtain blowing in the breeze. And then I noticed the screen on the ground. The open window. The thunk, thunk sound. Whoever had been here was gone.

I sprinted into the parking lot just as a woman was getting out of her car. Too well dressed to be at the Sunset, too clean, she looked like a social worker, calm and safe. For a moment I wondered if, somehow, she had already been sent to help. She was startled when I yelled to her.

“Please ma’am, it’s an emergency. Can I use your phone?” She stood for a moment, then nodded. Her face was sad, like she knew something I didn’t understand yet.

I dialed 9-1-1. At first, when the operator picked up, the words refused to come.

“My friend needs help! My friend needs help! She’s breathing, but she’s not waking up. We’re at the Sunset Motel. Room 10. Hurry, please!”

When I turned around, the woman’s car was there, but she was gone. I stood, clutching her phone, then set it on the hood of her car. In the distance, I heard the roar of fire trucks, saw the spangle of lights at the casino.