As she stepped outside, the storm had mellowed to a drizzle. Streetlights flickered in the foggy dusk as her heels tapped against the wet pavement. She didn't take her usual route home. She weaved through alleys, ducked into a café, then exited through the back, doubling back toward her apartment just in case someone was following her.
She reached home and locked every bolt behind her.
Then, she finally allowed herself to breathe.
Melisa sat on her bed, the hotel keycard laid out beside her. Questions churned in her mind.
Was Jenny in danger?
And if so — why her?
She stared at the name of the hotel. Nothing fancy. A place known for being discreet, no questions asked. That wasn't a coincidence.
And then she thought of something.
