Just like I’ve imagined the feeling of being watched every day for the past who knows how long. Or how my clothes are disappearing—like I couldn’t find my favorite shirt two weeks ago, and my good jeans have mysteriously vanished. Even things I swore I put away find themselves on the top of my table.
I fish my phone out of my pocket. I have no one else to call but the police, and they wouldn’t get here in time. No one would. I’m on my own for this one. The reality of my helplessness has me picking up my pace as I thread my keys between my knuckles.
The sound of footsteps behind me grows louder. Whoever is following me is quickening, matching my pace. That’s my answer. I’m not overthinking. I break into a run, and so does he. Heavy boots pound down the pavement behind me, and I push myself faster.
No, no, no. I’m not ready to die.
Why was I so stupid? Why didn’t I notice him sooner?
Another set of steps joins the first pair, and I push myself faster. Two people are chasing me. Two. I don’t make it far before my lungs burn from exertion. Not once do I turn around to check how close they are. I don’t exercise enough to trust that I won’t lose my footing.
I turn down another street. Even though I can’t hear them anymore, I don’t stop until I’m in front of the house. My wheezing breaths come out in big clouds of smoke. Only then do I glance back at the empty road. Who were they? Will they come back? What if it happens again and I can’t run fast enough?
I try and fail to get a hold of myself before I stumble inside, locking the door behind me with trembling hands, and checking it three times. Millie has started on dinner, and Greg is already in the lounge, beer in hand, while zoning out in front of the TV. Marcus is—I have no idea where he is. Locked away in his room, hopefully. Maybe I can get away with not seeing him at all.
Everyone in the house is completely oblivious to what just happened. I should call the cops or tell somebody. But who’s going to care? Who’s going to believe me?
The world seems to spin as I bolt up the stairs without a backward glance, passing Jeremy’s empty room on the way to mine. Nothing makes me feel any semblance of ease until the door to my room is shut. I lean against the wood and force myself to count to ten.
My heart still hammers away in my ribcage, and I’m worried it’s going to break bone if I don’t get a handle on myself. Adrenaline crashing makes me sway. My exhaustion isn’t just bone-deep anymore; I can feel it in my soul. I love Jeremy, but staying here is going to kill me.
I shiver from the cool breeze drifting through the room. With a defeated sigh, I push off the door and flick on the light. I alternate using my hands to rub my eyes and tug my jacket down my arms.
I blink away the fireworks exploding behind my lids, then stiffen.
A heart-shaped locket lies in the middle of my desk. The same one I took off a year after he disappeared. I haven’t so much as looked at it since.
I didn’t put that there.
I locked that thing away so I’d never see it again.
How the hell did it get there? Who came inside my room?
Rushing to the other side of the room, I yank open the closet door and drop to my knees to rummage around the bottom shelf, searching for the familiar fabric. When I can’t feel it, I pull everything out and go through every single article of clothing. Roman’s jersey isn’t there.
Marcus wouldn’t have known or cared that I hid it in Roman’s hoodie. Millie wouldn’t have been worried enough to do anything that doesn’t serve her immediate family, Greg wouldn’t have gotten off his ass for anything, and Jeremy isn’t home.
If someone broke into the house, surely they’d steal stuff of value? Not… not something this specific, something just in my room. Did I sleepwalk or something?
“Isa, hurry up,” Millie yells from downstairs.
I inhale sharply. “Coming.”
My body clicks in three places when I haul myself onto my feet. As my back muscles protest, I do my best to ignore the ache. It’s easy to ignore when my mind is still reeling from the appearance of the necklace.
I’ll figure it out later.
I drag my feet to the door and cast a longing look at my bed. For the third time tonight, every inch of my body seizes.
Because on my bed are two Mickey Mouse plush toys.
One that my mother gave me and one I’ve never seen before.
Chapter 15
ROMAN
The Day of the Incident
“You did something very stupid.” I grin.
The guy claws at my arm, gasping for breath. “I don’t know—"