Squeezing my eyes shut, I wobble to my feet and go to the first convenience store I find to grab some ibuprofen for the pain. That should do the trick until I can get the rest of the medicine the doctor provided. But since I can't take the pills on an empty stomach, I resolve to go to the pizza place next door that seems to have some affordable items on the menu. Considering my current circumstances, I really need to budget properly.

If only things weren't so expensive in New York...

Grumbling to myself, I quickly scan the menu, choosing a basic pepperoni small pizza and asking for a glass of tap water—at least that's free.

I eat slowly to avoid indigestion. But as I sit in my secluded corner in the restaurant, I can't help but feel eyes on me. The hair on my arms stands to attention, goose bumps spreading all over my skin. Uneasiness settles deep in the pit of my stomach. Furtively, I glance back a couple of times, but there's no one of consequence. Everyone is minding their own business, eating.

"I'm just being paranoid," I whisper to myself, grabbing another bite.

Living with Nikki's paranoia for so long must have rubbed off on me. But is it really paranoia when he ended up killed by the very people he was afraid of?

I take a deep breath as I try to keep my calm. But how can I when I think about all the injustices my Nikki suffered? We might have been happy together, in our little world, but that happiness was always overshadowed by the perpetual danger his family posed to us.

The more I think about it, the more I realize Nikki likely never had a moment of peace in his life. Perhaps when he was a child and his parents were still alive, but after their deaths, he was thrust from one nightmare to another—tortured both physically and psychologically.

I scan my surroundings again for fear I may be the next on the Archibalds' list. Maybe I should have tried to understand Nikki better. Maybe if he hadn't noticed my longing for the outside world, we wouldn't have left the safety of our home, and he'd still be alive.

Maybe...

I sigh audibly as I stare at the leftover crusts.

If he were here, he'd eat those since they were his favorite part of the pizza—we'd always complemented each other in that regard.

But now...

I grab the first one, biting into it and forcing myself to chew. I do the same to the next until the plate is empty.