Chapter 5

It was raining when I knelt outside the building.

People walked past. Some looked with pity. Some with amusement. Some stopped to take pictures for their Instagram.

My knees pressed against the cold marble. My wet pants clung to my skin, cold enough to sting.

But the pain in my knees was nothing compared to what was happening inside my chest.

Carter came through the glass doors with a black umbrella. Christine walked beside him.

He saw me kneeling there. One look — and then he turned away fast, like holding his gaze on me even a second longer would somehow dirty his eyes.

The rain got heavier.

Nine o'clock finally came.

I pushed myself up against the wall. My knees had gone numb. My calves were swollen and bruised.

I made my way home one step at a time.

Three kilometers. It took me an hour and a half.

I collapsed onto the floor, soaked through.

Carter's calls came one after another.

I never picked up. He kept calling.

Third call. Fourth. Fifth.

What could he possibly have to say to me?

I didn't want to hear it. I was afraid to hear it.

I switched my phone to silent and tossed it aside.

About fifteen minutes later, it buzzed.

A text.

From Carter: Two hundred thousand. I'll have someone deliver it tomorrow. We're done.

We're done.

I stared at those two words on the screen. I wanted to cry but couldn't.

What gave him the right to call us done?

But I had no energy left to fight it.

I really had nothing left.

The next morning, someone knocked on my door.

I thought it was the money Carter had promised.

I opened it. It was Christine.

She was wearing a cream-colored trench coat, a sleek leather case in her hand, smiling at me brightly.

"Morning, Lora."

I watched her carefully. "What do you want?"

She let herself in without being asked, looked around my small, worn-out apartment, and made a little sound of disdain.

"A place like this. How sad."

"What do you want?"

She turned around, set the case on the table, and opened it.

Inside were stacks of cash.

"Two hundred thousand, from Carter. He asked me to bring it."

She smiled. "Except I told him you already received it."

I froze.

"And then I told him you took the money straight to a casino and lost every cent."

Her smile widened. "Carter absolutely despises gamblers. Right now, he thinks you're disgusting. Isn't that hilarious?"

Everything fell into place.

"You—"

"I've known about you for a long time," she said, cutting me off, casually examining her freshly done nails. "I knew from the beginning that Carter was playing broke and dating you. Did you think you were keeping a secret? I knew everything."

"I just didn't want him staying connected to you. So I took care of it. Pretty clever plan, right?"

My whole body was trembling. I grabbed my phone and called Carter.

He answered.

"Lora."

His voice was as cold and hard as stone in a freezer.

"I never thought you were a gambler. Gamblers are the one thing I can't stand. Good thing I hid who I was — otherwise a woman like you would've drained everything I had."

"Carter, I never gambled!"

"Don't bother explaining."

He cut me off.

"You took the money. You lost it yourself. There's nothing left between us."

"Don't call me again."

Click.

I called back. It didn't go through.

He'd blocked me.

Christine clapped her hands together lightly and called toward the door.

"Come in."

Several men filed into the room.

My stomach dropped.

The loan sharks.

The one in front looked me over with a slow, ugly smile.

"Since you can't pay the money, you'll just have to pay another way. Don't worry. We'll be gentle."

I backed into the corner. I was shaking.

They moved toward me.

I fought. I screamed.

Then my phone rang.

Christine bent down and picked it up off the floor.

"Oh, it's Carter calling. But you're a little busy right now. What a shame."

She hit accept and set the phone on the table. Speakerphone.

One of the men grabbed me deliberately hard.

I couldn't stop the cry that tore out of me.

The man in front laughed. "Don't be scared, sweetheart. We'll take good care of you."

On the other end of the line, Carter's breath caught.

"Lora, you really are something. I actually feel sorry I ever knew you. Any man will do, huh?"

The call ended.

He would never speak to me again. I knew it.

"See? Now he really is disgusted by you."

My tears had run dry.

The men in the floral shirts and their friends went about their business.

I don't know how long it lasted.

An hour. Two hours. Maybe an entire day.

All I know is that eventually they were gone.

The room was destroyed.

My body was covered in wounds.

Blood everywhere.

I lay on the cold floor and stared at the crack in the ceiling.

It ran from the corner of the wall all the way to the light fixture, like a dried-up riverbed.

I thought about two years ago, the day I first moved into this apartment.

Carter had come to help me move in. He looked at that crack in the ceiling and said, "What a dump. Once I start making real money, I'll buy you a proper place."

I slowly got up and walked to the window.

It was open. The wind came in cool and easy.

I looked down.

Eighteenth floor.

That would be enough.

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes.

The wind roared past my ears.

And then there was nothing.

"Carter. Now we really are done."