Page 124 of The New Couple in 5B

“Did you kill Ivan, Ella?” I ask.

She blinks at me. “Ivan died from his illness. You know that.”

As if she’d admit it.

She lifts her gaze to me, continues on as if I didn’t interrupt her. “Then you and Chad swept in.”

I shake my head. “We didn’tsweepin, Ella. We cared for Ivan while he was dying.”

I might as well not even be there; she doesn’t even acknowledge me.

“And somehow your Chad manipulated Ivan into leavinghimthe apartment. Both of you, actually. It’s in both of your names.”

I remember Dana’s rage and how I felt sorry for her. I thought she was grieving her father. But maybe she was really grieving that windfall of money.

“It was Ivan’s idea to leave us the apartment,” I say. “Chad wanted it to go to Dana.”

Ella smiles. “You really believe that, don’t you? You really believe that your husband is a good man. He’s not. He’s an operator, an opportunist. And now this place is yours.”

“Where is he, Ella?” I ask. Because it’s clear now, if they’ve taken me, they must also have taken him. “What have you done with him?”

“This building,” she says, looking around the room. “It’s not for everyone. Not everyone deserves to live here. Marc LeClerc only sold to true believers.”

“True believers?”

The bindings around my ankles finally grow loose enough that I get one foot, then the other, free. I lie still, waiting. But I’m free. I glance at the door, wonder who might be outside.

She keeps talking. “People who understand that there’s more to life than what we see before us. That there’s energy, and spirits, other planes. This building is special and the people who live here need to be special, too. Slowly over the years, there have been less and less of those kinds of people. And the Windermere’s power has been diminishing.”

“Itspower?” Ella is clearly losing her grip, or she lost it long ago.

“Like so many buildings in this city, it’s a grand place that attracts artists and actors, mediums, authors. Like you and Chad. This building is a dream maker—or it used to be. If you come here with your dreams, its energy helps you make them come true. Think about it. How long after you moved here did Chad get his big break? Days.”

That’s ridiculous. Talent, hard work, tenacity—those are the only dream makers in this life. Success is not magic—its blood, sweat and tears. But I don’t bother. That’s the thing with true believers—their minds are closed. I’ve known enough of them in my life to know that.

“Ella, just tell me what you want me to do.”

She lifts a stack of paper. “Your friend Olivia drew this up to save Chad. And Chad signed it to save you. And now all we need is your signature and we’ll bring you to your husband.”

I’m grappling with the twisted logic of this. So they have Chad and Olivia somewhere? They coerced Olivia to create a document, Chad to sign. And if I sign, then they’ll bring me to Chad, and we all go free? No.

“What is it?” I ask, voice shaking.

“It’s a quick claim deed, a document that you will sign, giving us the apartment to thank us for all we’ve done for you, for Ivan. Because over the years, we’ve become like family. Haven’t we, Rosie? Both of you alone in the world, we took you under our wing.”

“And then what happens to us?” I ask stupidly.

“We all go about our lives. You and Chad, far from here. You don’t tell a soul. And we won’t share what we know about Dana’s death. Your husband with his terrible history, who will believe he didn’t kill her when the evidence points to his guilt?”

The room is spinning as I process all of this.

“You’re just going to let us walk away if I sign over the apartment.”

She gives me a pitying look. “We don’t want to hurt you, dear. We always liked you both so much.”

“You know, Ella,” I say. “I don’t believe you.”

She smiles that smile, shakes her head. Her snow-white bob frames her gaunt face. She steeples her long, bejeweled fingers.

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