No One Knows Us Here(73)

I had told her. I had told my sister I wasn’t equipped to do this, that I would be terrible at this. I had told her from the very beginning, when we were kids. The wicked fairy had to fly away, find her kind. That was how the story went. Everyone was happier without her there, getting into mischief, up to no good. She ruined everything she touched.

In the space of a minute I convinced myself that something had happened, that Wendy and Hannah had been hanging out here, that they had thrown a party. Maybe things had spun out of control. Maybe someone had passed out from drinking or worse—drugs. Someone overdosed here in the apartment. The girls didn’t know what to do. They got scared. They cleaned up all the evidence—the syringes and bottles and cigarettes—so no one would ever suspect a thing. They hid the body in a suitcase and managed to get it into Hannah’s car, and now they were on the run.

If a party had been going on here, Sam would have heard it.

I pounded on his door, heavy thumps. He didn’t come to the door, and I pounded again, defeated. My fist rested there, on his door, midpound. I pressed my forehead against the painted wood and squeezed my eyes shut. I was so tired. I’d flown across an ocean to get back here, and nothing had improved. Tears welled up behind my eyes. I could feel the pressure, a dull throbbing.

On the other side of the door, footsteps approached. I heard Sam muttering “okay, okay.” When the door opened, I stumbled forward, almost falling inside.

His expression mutated from annoyed to incredulous in an instant. “Rosemary?”

I was so happy to see him there. His faded jeans, his rumpled T-shirt, his uncombed hair. That sweater he always wore, the gray cardigan. The tears that had been welling up spilled over, gushed down my cheeks, and I laughed, swiping at them with the back of my hand. I didn’t know why I was crying.

His eyes roved over me in alarm, taking in my appearance. My skin must still be dull and speckled with red welts, my eyes bloodshot and wild. “Jesus, Rosemary.” His arms went around me, and he pulled me close. I stiffened at first, but only because I was so surprised. I thought he hated me. I thought he was through with me. My head settled against his chest, and my eyes closed. For that moment—and that was all it was, not even a minute—I could breathe in his wool-and-cedar scent and pretend everything was like it had been before.

It was Sam who pulled back first. His thumbs swiped away the last of my tears. His fingers brushed back the stray strands of hair from my face. “You cut your hair.” He said it as if it were the saddest thing in the world.

He hugged me again. “What did he do to you? Where’s Wendy?”

My eyes met Sam’s, and I held my finger up to my lips. Then I carefully surveyed the ceiling of the landing where we stood. I didn’t see any Glasseyes, but maybe Leo wasn’t using those to track me after all. They could hide cameras anywhere these days, in the electrical sockets, in the tip of a pen.

That’s when I saw it. I wasn’t imagining it. It wasn’t even particularly well hidden. A Glasseye, nestled on the light fixture on the wall right above the elevator. I froze, trying to come up with a plan. It couldn’t have been here for long, that Glasseye. I would have seen it. Teddy must have put it there, I decided. That day he delivered my coat.

In one decisive movement, I grabbed Sam by the hand and tugged, leading him out of his apartment and into the stairwell. I kept my finger to my lips as we ascended the stairs. The door to the rooftop said EMERGENCY EXIT ONLY, and for a second I hesitated. Then I pushed down the lever and braced myself for lights to flash, alarms to sound. Nothing happened, and we stepped onto the roof of the building.

In the distance, clouds gathered in layers of gray and violet. A troubled, stormy sky. Wind whipped my hair into my face, splattered us with drops of rain.

“He’s watching,” I said. “Listening. Not just me—Wendy, too. Her friend, Hannah. Maybe you—I don’t know. I don’t know.”

Sam didn’t say anything.

“He can’t hear us up here,” I said, though I didn’t know. Maybe he could. Maybe he’d installed some sort of tracking device under my skin without me noticing.

“You have to tell me what’s going on,” Sam said.

“Wendy—I’m trying to find her. Was she here? Did you see her? Hear her, maybe?”

He shook his head, slowly. “I thought she was staying with her friend.”

“She was.” My voice cracked. “I thought she was.”

“Rosemary,” he said, “start from the beginning.”

“You’ll hate me.”

He gave me a crooked little smile. “Tell me anyway.”

I exhaled loudly, a skittering, choked-up sigh. Then I told him.

I told him everything. I told him about Mira and her phone, and Sebastian St. Doug, and how I met Leo Glass. I told him about Leo Glass’s offer, how it seemed like the answer to all my problems. I told him how then I met him, Sam, and I fell in love with him. I used those words—“I fell in love with you”—and the look on Sam’s face was so heartbroken I almost couldn’t keep going, but I kept going. I told him about the doctor’s appointment and how Leo wanted me to choose him, to tell him I loved him. And how I did it, I told him, but only because I thought it was a part of it, a part of this strange job of being Leo Glass’s girlfriend.

My story edged closer to the present, to this moment on the roof. I told him about France, how I’d fallen ill, but then Leo had proposed and given me a huge diamond ring. “Look at this thing,” I told Sam, and I held up my hand to show him the enormous rock on my finger. My hands had swollen during the flight. It wouldn’t come off. I told Sam the end, or what I viewed as the end, when Leo had pulled my IUD out of me with a pair of tweezers.