One of Those Faces (31)

His body softened. His warm breath rustled through my hair as he kissed the top of my head, pulling me closer into his arms. “I have to stop by my professor’s office before work,” he said after a moment. “What are you doing for the rest of today?” His lips pressed gently against my neck, and chills ran down my skin.

“I have to work on some commissions,” I answered, breathlessly, angling my body deeper into his.

“Why don’t you come to the bar tonight?” he said. “You can work there, and I can send you free drinks.”

I laughed. “Is that allowed?”

He shrugged. “It’s a Tuesday. It probably won’t get that busy. And as long as there’s a drink on the table, no one will bother you. When I get off, we can go grab dinner.”

I fought the urge to lock up immediately. This was new territory for me. “Okay,” I said simply, before leaning away from him, my feet touching the frigid tile. “I’ll try to make it.” I lifted my jeans from the floor with my toes and grabbed them, then slid them up my thighs, hoping he hadn’t seen too much. The bed squeaked slightly as he got up. I turned around, but he was already grabbing a shirt from his desk against the wall and buttoning it. “I’m going to head out.”

His expression was unreadable. “See you tonight,” he said. He sounded uncertain. He followed behind me into the living room toward the front door.

I rubbed my hand along the top of Leo’s head as he appeared by my side. I opened the door but lingered at the threshold, my eyes drifting to the faint footprints on the floor. They trailed down the hallway to the stairwell.

Iann sensed my hesitation and stayed a few feet behind me. “Harper,” he started softly. He was silent for a couple of seconds, and then he smiled weakly. “Can you get home okay?”

It was a stupid question, but it was something. I leaned backward, one foot in the hallway. “Yeah. Bye.” I turned and started toward the stairwell, hearing the door close behind me. I gripped the stairwell door as my shoe slipped. The muddy footprints were still wet but drying around the edges. Pushing the door open, I saw that the trail continued down the steps. My knees trembled as I shuffled to the next set of footprints, then slid my sneaker beside the muddy outline. It was the same size. I swiped my shoe across the print, causing the imprint to smudge into a mess. My steps quickened with each flight as my chest grew tighter. I opened the door onto the street and gulped at the warm air, the taste of rain sour on my tongue.

Something crunched under my shoe just as the door closed behind me. I couldn’t hear anything else as my heartbeat grew louder in my ears. I leaned back on my heel and lifted the top of my shoe from the sidewalk, revealing a small wooden pendant caked with dirt, lying beside a few freshly discarded cigarette butts. There was a heart etched into the dark wood grain, a carefully layered, delicate Celtic knot at the center of the heart. I glanced over my shoulder. It was quiet on the street, only a couple of people walking away several yards ahead of me. I bent over and grasped the pendant in trembling hands.

I studied the sidewalk nearby and noticed that behind me where the footprints stopped, a pair of wide boot prints picked up, leading away from the apartment and to the curb.

My stomach churned the entire train ride home. I couldn’t tell if I was excited . . . or scared. Right before the train pulled into Damen Station, I dared to glance at my phone for the first time since the previous afternoon. There were three new calls—all from a blocked number. I deleted them immediately.

I stared at the tops of my sneakers as my feet hit the sidewalk and passed the park. I ran my fingers over the etched wood in my pocket. Why did you take that? The answer to that question was like a memory on the edge of my thoughts but just out of reach.





AUTUMN





CHAPTER FOURTEEN


Fall came pouring into Chicago with more rain than I’d seen in a while after a particularly hot summer. The time had passed so quietly and suddenly, three months gone without an update on Holly’s or Sarah’s cases. No matter how frequently I refreshed the page, no new articles appeared.

I flipped through the same old articles as I waited at the crosswalk. When the signal changed, I walked deeper into downtown, looking for the Blue Line entrance on Washington Avenue. I had strayed from the path a bit after parting ways with Iann at the coffee shop. I’d insisted on taking the train since I had a few errands to run once I got to Damen.

As my foot struck the curb, I looked up and froze, one foot still dangling behind me over the asphalt. My reflection was staggered behind hers in the storefront window as she adjusted her long brown hair over her shoulders and ran her finger over the lipstick on her mouth. The eyes. The nose. Those lips.

A shoulder jostled me, and I caught myself from falling onto the concrete. I glanced up, but she was gone from the storefront. I scanned the crowd rushing in and out of the train station entrance and spotted her green coat and her shimmering straight hair as she continued down the sidewalk. I froze. I wanted to follow her. But fear gripped my feet, weighing them into the pavement. She was the specter of Issi I had always feared. But alive. And full of color. She disappeared around the corner, and feeling slowly crept back into my legs. I tripped backward toward the entrance before turning and starting down the steps. I touched my throat as if she were the one who had reached for me in my nightmares.