I check all my pockets again, and my keys aren’t in any of them. “This can’t be happening.”

“What’s up?”

“I think I lost my keys.”

“You think?”

“I absolutely lost my keys.”

“And your phone. I got to say, man, your pants are cute, but your pockets suck.”

This is certainly not going to be the worst part of my day, but this doesn’t feel good. I’m exhausted, and I just want to go lie down for a little bit. “Should we go back to the hospital?”

“No, just call your landlord—oh.” Orion looks at the intercom. “Do you know his apartment? Just buzz him.”

“He told me to only bother him during business hours. I don’t want to upset him.”

“He’s not going to be your problem for much longer. Act like you’re moving out. You got nothing to lose.”

I do have nothing to lose. Frankie already seems annoyed with me, and there’s no point trying to improve my relationship with him. Not even for Scarlett, who will have no issues confronting him when he’s out of line. I only feel guilty about disturbing his family, but this is an emergency. My whole day is an emergency, and I need to treat it as such.

I go to the intercom, pausing because I’ll never see my own name listed here. I press the buzzer for Frankie’s apartment. Then after a minute of nothing, Orion buzzes, holding down the button three times as long.

“He’s going to kill you,” I say. “More likely me.”

“He’s not going to do shit.”

There’s static on the intercom before Frankie’s voice comes through: “Who is it?”

“Hi, Frankie. It’s Valentino Prince. I’m so sorry. I’m locked out.”

“Where the hell are your keys?!” Frankie shouts.

I’m regretting this. “I lost them.”

We hear what sounds like the intercom phone slamming.

“Okay, maybe he will kill you,” Orion mutters.

Judging by Frankie’s face as he comes down the stairs, I’d say we’re right. It’s not too late to turn around and run. Frankie opens the lobby door and stares at my bloody forehead. I’m stupid for thinking that would buy me any sympathy points. He simply glares at me and Orion.

“I’m so sorry to wake you up,” I say.

Frankie blocks the doorway. “You lost your keys on your first night. Who does that?”

I’m not walking him through everything I’ve been through since discovering I’m a Decker. It’s not his business, and I doubt he’d care.

“I’m sorry,” I say again.

Frankie tightens his bathrobe. “Did you lose both sets of keys?”

“No, the other set is at home. I didn’t carry both. . . .”

“Oh, good, you have some common sense.”

“Wow,” Orion says. “This is how you treat your tenants?”