Page 19 of Midnight Wedding

This is what I get for my stupid curiosity. I’m the goddamn cat in that dumb proverb. I can’t keep to myself—an open door is like crack to me. Even when I know I should walk on by and mind my own business, somehow, I manage to get into trouble anyway.

I did this for years. Urban exploration was my thing. I swear I’ve been in at least half of all the abandoned buildings in Baltimore, and I’d go into the other half if it weren’t for my mom getting sick.

Now I’ve gone too far. It was cute when I was wriggling into windows and taking pictures of empty warehouses.

There’s nothing fun about witnessing a murder.

A lot about that night makes sense now, though. The cash all over the place, the gun under the sink. Arsen’s disinterest in finding out what had happened to his place.

I fucked a criminal.

A really,reallybad one, too.

An hour passes. I finally crawl into bed and close my eyes. I see Arsen’s mouth between my legs. I see the horror and pleading in Saro’s eyes.

Sunlight.My alarm. I blink and murmur and swat at my phone until it turns off. “What the hell?”

I have approximately two minutes to wonder why I’m still alive before I get sick again. When I’m done, I hurry into the kitchen, terrified I’m going to find my whole family tied up and tortured.

Instead, Mom smiles at me brightly. “Want some coffee?” she asks.

I kiss her cheek a little longer than usual. “You’re okay?” I don’t even know why I ask. She’s clearly not okay, not even close to okay, but she’s here. That’s better than the alternative.

“Today’s a good day, little baby. But you smell kind of bad.”

“I should take a shower.”

“And brush your teeth.” She wrinkles her nose. “Did you make an appointment with your doctor yet?”

“Not yet, but I will.”

What the hell is going on? I saw Arsen kill someone last night. We locked freakingeyes. And for some reason, my mother’s fine, my dad’s at work, my brother’s sleeping in, and I’m still breathing.

It doesn’t make any sense.

The day’s a blur. It’s too normal, and that’s killing me. I keep waiting for the door to get kicked down and for Arsen to appear, but it doesn’t happen. Instead, I take my mom to the bank and the grocery store. I make soup for dinner later tonight. I do laundry and fold my dad’s clothes and get ready for work.

Normal. Excruciatingly, agonizingly normal.

“You’ve been a little twitchy today,” Mom says from her spot on the couch. A Russian soap opera’s playing on TV, and I should get going soon.

Who’s going to cut my paycheck now that Sora’s dead?

“Just, uh, worried the club’s still, you know?—”

“Flooded?”

“Right, still flooded. From the toilets.”

She looks deeply skeptical but lets it go.

Maybe I got away with it. For once in my life, maybe I’m getting lucky. I’ve gone through enough shit over the years that maybe God is smiling down on me and giving me a singlewitness a murder without consequencespass.

I almost believe it too when I step out into the hall and start to leave for work.

Only to find the door to Arsen’s apartment is open.

Like a gaping, hungry mouth, fangs dripping blood.

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