Page 125 of The New Couple in 5B

“The soul is infinite, Rosie. We might shift off this body, but we live forever. Like our Miles. You’ve seen him. You know. We can never leave this building, even after everything, because I can never leave my son behind.”

It echoes what Arthur Alpern said about the memories of his life with his wife that still lingered in the apartment.

“And Paul and Willa,” she says. “Sometimes I hear his typewriter. He used to write in the same room where you work now, Rosie. Sometimes I hear the gunshot we heard that night. Maybe when you and Chad are gone, we’ll hear you laughing, or making love.”

I don’t wait to hear more. As quickly as I can, I throw back the covers, get up and start to run with all the strength I have left.

forty-one

I stumble at the bedroom door, my legs weak beneath me, catch myself on the frame, keep running, crashing through the door and into my empty apartment. Ella screeches after me, as I race through the dining room, into the kitchen.

Grabbing a knife from the block on the counter as I pass, I slam out the back door, head down the fire stairs toward the street, screaming for help. Someone will hear me, won’t they? Call the police?

Everything tilts and my head is hammering, the concrete stairs hard beneath my bare feet. I am almost at the bottom, when I hear the exit door to the ground floor open and close.

“Ms. Lowan.”

It’s Abi. His voice carries up, soothing and mellifluous. “Ms. Lowan,” he says. “I know you’re upset. But everything is okay. Let us help you.”

“Help me?” I scream. “Whatare you doing? Why are you helping them?”

I turn and run back up the stairs, with Abi coming up, footfalls heavy, echoing behind me.

I run with everything I have, the world shuddering. I fall, knocking my knees hard against the steps, get up, keep going. A stitch in my side, my heart working double time, breath ragged.

Up and up and up, his footsteps coming faster. My mind is blank with terror, no time to think about Chad or Olivia or where they are and if they’re okay. I can’t go there; it will double me over with fear. All I can do is try to survive this.

I pass my floor, expecting to see Ella come from the door, but she doesn’t. Then I’m on six, then seven.

My lungs burn, leg muscles on fire. I’m going to be sick, but I will myself to be solid, to keep moving. If I stop, they have me and I won’t get away from them again.

Abi’s still behind me. I can hear his labored breathing, gaining, as I pass nine, ten. I turn around to see him still coming as I burst out through the door to the roof, the cold night air hitting me like a wall, the tar rough beneath my feet. The stars above obscured by city light, and the wind whips.

I slam the door hard and realize, too late, that I’m trapped. I have no phone to call for help. And no one will hear me screaming up here. There’s no other exit off this roof.

Except for one.

I remember Xavier’s ruined body on the sidewalk. What was he trying to tell me? Did it get him killed like it did Dana?

I run for the shadows and crouch in the darkness of the far corner of the roof, behind a huge air vent, listening. Curled up, I wrap my arms around my legs and wait, clutching the knife I grabbed from the kitchen. Something sparkling catches my eye.

When I look down, I find its one of those stupid necklaces, pick it up and hold it in my hand. The tiny palm with an eye in its center, a protection from evil. How many of these did Ella give to people, and how have they fared? Was it a charm, or a curse? I never wore the one she gave to me.

I’ve seen one on Chad, on Dana, on Xavier.

Xavier and Dana are dead. Chad is missing.

I realize then that I must be near the edge where Xavier fell. Or was he pushed, as he, too, ran up here to get away from people chasing him?

Why? Who? What do they want? Not just the apartment, surely. I shiver, holding the charm in one hand, knife in the other. I’m all alone in the middle of the most populated city on earth, trapped. No way out.

I close my eyes and do a thing I never do. I pray. To the Universe. My father always said to ask when things seemed hopeless: What is possible? Will you show me the way?

I repeat those two sentences like a mantra as the door to the roof opens and closes hard.

“Ms. Lowan,” says Abi. “It’s not safe up here. Not safe at all.”

I stay quiet, using the dark and my hiding space to my advantage. I won’t go without a fight. I will create as much damage as possible. The door opens and closes again.

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