Werther smiled. “Won’t I? I daresay I’ll be seeing you again soon, Zorah Bright. Until then.”
Daisy blocked my approach to the conference room door, her face the same cold mask it had been earlier. “You’re fired. I don’t ever want to see your face here again. Do you understand me?”
That broke me.
A horrible choking, clawing sensation clogged my throat. I opened the conference room door and rushed out wordlessly, passing Vonnie as I hurried by.
“Zorah?” Vonnie called my name, but I couldn’t speak. “What happened? Where are you going?”
There was no way I could answer her. I had to get out of this place before I lost it. Before that Werther guy came after me—because even though I wanted to believe this was the end of it, after his final words to me, something in my gut knew the nightmare was far from over. When I left the building, it was pouring outside. I didn’t care. I just ran, as far and as fast as I could. It had been a long time since I’d run like that, but I didn’t know what else to do. I’d had enough. At that point, my body was in agony and my spirits were drowned.
I just wanted to go home.
About a block from where my lungs gave out, I saw a bus stop through the rain. I staggered up to it and sat, wet and alone, waiting for the bus to come. That was when I broke down crying.
Everything I’d spent the past few years working towards at MMHA was gone. Part of me had hoped the volunteer work would lead somewhere bigger, but if it didn’t I was okay with that. All I’d wanted was to do something good and make a difference.
Even that had turned into a disaster.
Fifteen minutes later, my tears were somewhat under control. The bus finally came. Unfortunately, it was the wrong bus line, so I ended up riding it much longer than I expected to. Lucky for me, my phone was fully charged. I dragged a pair of earbuds from my backpack and tried to drown out the thoughts in my brain with the loudest, angriest music I could find.
It didn’t work, but at least I’d be home soon, where I could crawl into bed and hide from the world. Hell, maybe I’d even call in sick tomorrow at AJ’s. I didn’t care anymore. All I wanted to do was sleep. After way too long riding around on unfamiliar buses, I finally caught the right one and made it to my stop.
I was soaked, but the rain suited my state of mind. Thanks to the overcast skies, it was far darker than it should have been at midday. That, too, suited my state of mind.
I got off the bus a couple of blocks from my house. When I turned toward my street, I saw a bunch of flashing red and blue lights in my neighborhood. My overworked heart started hammering again, wondering what the hell was happening now. Had there been a fire? Had one of my neighbors called an ambulance? As I reached the corner, it hit me.
It wasn’t the fire service or an ambulance—it was the police. Lots of them. And they weren’t just near my house. They were surrounding it.
I started to panic. Any other day, I would have assumed that it was just some stupid misunderstanding. I would have approached the police cars and asked what was going on. But today? No. This wasn’t a coincidence.
It wasn’t paranoia when they really were out to get you. And whoever this Werther guy was, he was out for blood. Mine.
I remembered my dream—the one about Mom. Her death. How all these years, I’d suspected it wasn’t an accident. Now, I was more certain than ever. Something was wrong in the world. Terribly, terribly wrong.
I could feel it in the ache of my bones. The frantic beat of my heart. Werther wanted me, and I needed to run far and fast. I thought about the creeping sensation of dread he engendered in me, and knew that I couldn’t let him catch me. Something deep inside me was screaming that letting him catch me would mean death, or worse.
Taking a deep breath, I pulled the fallen hood of my raincoat over my head and kept walking. Past the corner, past my street, past the police cars waiting for me. One step at a time, I walked like I didn’t have a care in the world. The rain beat down harder—a fitting accompaniment to my life being washed away in the space of a single morning. I was soaked—a drowned rat scurrying for safety—but at least I was still free.
At least I wasn’t in Werther’s hands.
About a mile away from my house stood a convenience store with a small deli attached. I glanced over my shoulder, seeing no indication anyone was following me. In the pit of my stomach, though, I knew they’d be looking soon. Coming after me.
As I got closer to my temporary destination, my mind spun with worry. I’d watched enough police procedural shows to know all the ways they could track a person these days. Was there any way to hide from this, if Werther really wanted to find me? Especially if he had the cops in his pocket somehow?
Finally, I reached the entrance to the little sandwich shop. Breathless from exhaustion and panic, I scanned the interior for anybody suspicious. Not that I’d know what suspicious looked like under these circumstances, but everything seemed normal. Nothing set off my internal radar. It wasn’t a particularly busy day, and only two other people were inside eating.
I grabbed a cheap plastic booth in the corner and buried my head in my arms. I tried holding in the fresh round of tears, but I couldn’t do it. I was tired. Wet. Alone. I didn’t know what to do. Who to call.
