She had been heartbroken, but any remaining love she'd had for Ben had evaporated in the ensuing divorce proceedings. Ben had fought her every step of the way. Mira was still paying legal fees, but she'd managed to get some spousal maintenance out of him, at least for the time it took her to finish up her psychology degree.

Anger rose up in her for a moment, so severe it nearly choked her. Ben had lied to her continuously. She'd given him years of her life, her trust, and her love, and he'd treated the feelings she had for him like trash. Treated her like trash.

She'd been so stupid to quit school and rely on him financially. At the time, she'd been so in love with him she could never have imagined Ben would be unfaithful. She thought her life would be like the lives of her friends. Even if she didn't have a career, she'd have kids, a great marriage, be happy.

Obviously, such things weren't meant for her.

He'd taken the house in Eden Prairie. She hadn't wanted it. She'd wanted her own place, free of memories and flush with the promise of a fresh start. Besides the temporary spousal support, she'd taken very little from her old residence in a bid to create a new life for herself.

Tears burned her eyes, and she blinked them away. Wallowing in self-pity was the least productive thing she could do. Anyway, she'd been free of Ben and his lies for six months and every day her life got better.

Mira glanced around her apartment a little less certainly than she had a moment before.

Right?

She chased away the flicker of doubt with a shake of her head and hit the button to play the next message. The creepy sound of a man breathing filled the apartment. No words, no voice, just the strangely threatening sound of breathing.

Mira shuddered. After feeling like being watched, she really didn't need prank calls like that. She hit Delete and stepped away from the recorder, feeling every hair on her body rise. Normally, she'd laugh it off, but not tonight. Tonight it made dread curl in the pit of her stomach.

Someone knocked on her door—hard. Startled, Mira jumped three feet in the air.

"Mira Hoskins?" The man's voice sounded muffled through the door. "We need to talk to you.”

We?

She didn't move, didn't breathe. The voice was unfamiliar. There was no conceivable reason anyone should be knocking on her door at eleven at night. Her godmother's voice entered her mind ... The Boston Strangler never had to break a lock, you know.

Bang! Bang! Bang! "Miss Hoskins, we know you're in there. Open up. We just want to talk.”

No way was she opening that door.

Silence. She stood rooted in place, hoping they'd go away.

"Miss Hoskins," the voice said softly after a few moments, "let's do this the easy way, shall we?”