“Howard’s Convenience. Where’s that?” I ask, praying my voice doesn’t sound as shaky as I feel.

“There’s an address on the top—”

A high-pitched, shattering noise cuts Annalisa off, and we instinctively shriek and duck for cover as glass rains over us. A heavy object flies through the air with a flash of red.

Suddenly I’m somewhere else. The edges of my vision blur. I don’t dare breathe. A white room. A doll with a knife shoved through it on the bed. Tiny pieces of glass slicing my arm. A brick with a death threat. Tony.

“You fucking coward!” Annalisa’s yelling; she’s standing at the now-broken window.

Get away from the window, Annalisa! The words are stuck in my throat.

I move into action, my limbs weak, practically falling over myself to crawl over to Annalisa, to get her away from Tony.

He’ll kill us!

“Anna!” My throat is dry. It doesn’t even sound like I’m talking.

This is it; it will be my fault my friends died. And they won’t even know why.

“That man is psychotic!” she rambles, staring into the parking lot. She doesn’t even know she’s in real danger.

My body finally catches up to my brain, and I stand up, running over to Annalisa and Charlotte at the window.

I’m about to tackle them, to tell them to get down, when Annalisa exclaims, “I fucking hate Ryan!”

I stop midtackle.

Ryan?

There it is. A very distinct red Mustang, speeding out of the parking lot.

Annalisa’s sitting on the couch, turning the note over in her hands, trying not to tear it apart. It was attached to the brick Ryan threw through Luke’s window, like a page right out of Tony’s playbook.

Still a bit shaky, and not really knowing what to do, we did the most logical thing. We called Aiden. Just hearing his deep and reassuring voice made me feel better, but more than that, Aiden always looks after us. He’s the one to go to when you need help. He asks us if we’re okay, then snaps into fix-it mode, asking questions about the mess and the window and promising to be here soon.

Annalisa leaves a message for the building manager about the broken window since he isn’t working today, and Charlotte and I carefully clean up the shattered glass. The January air that seeps in from the broken window makes the room so much colder than it already was, and I zip up my leather jacket to keep the chill out. Not long after we’ve gotten the glass cleaned up and have settled down on the couch, there’s a knock on the door, and Aiden and Julian are here, hugging us, checking us for injuries.

“We’re fine.” Annalisa pulls out of Julian’s embrace, then shoves the note in his face.

“This was attached to the brick he threw through the window. What is wrong with him? Why does he have nothing better to do than harass us?” She glares at the brick now sitting harmlessly on the counter, as if trying to make it explode with her mind.