Page 11 of Triplet Babies
I drop my purse on the counter and steal a piece of carrot from her cutting board. “Something like that. It was actually kind of interesting and different from what I expected even if I was stuck inside all day.”
Nina turns to fully face me, wooden spoon still in hand. “Good different or weird different?”
“Both, maybe. My boss is...” I pause, trying to find the right words. “Intense, but not in a bad way. It’s more like he’s used to being in control of everything, and he expects the same level of focus from everyone around him.”
She raises an eyebrow. “Sounds demanding.”
“Maybe. Or maybe he’s just very clear about what he wants.” I think about the way he looked at me when he said I interested him. “I can’t quite figure him out.”
Nina sets down her spoon and leans against the counter, giving me her full attention. “Hot boss?”
“Nina.”
“I’m just asking. Rich, powerful, mysterious, and intense is usually a good combination in the attractiveness department.” She tilts her head slightly and winks. “Lotta businessmen marry their secretaries.”
She’s not wrong but admitting that feels dangerous for reasons I can’t quite articulate. “He’s my employer. That’s all.”
Nina grins and turns back to her cooking. “Sure he is. Just remember workplace crushes can get complicated.”
“There’s no crush.”
“If you say so.”
I change the subject to safer topics, and we spend the evening talking about her latest catering job and watching terrible reality TV. It’s comfortable, normal, and exactly what I need after a day of feeling like I’m living in someone else’s life.
I’m getting ready for bed when my phone buzzes again. For a split second, I freeze, worried it’s another threatening message, but this time, it’s just Nina texting from her bedroom next door.
Don’t overthink the job thing. You deserve good opportunities.
I stare at her message for a long moment, then make a decision I probably should have made hours ago. I walk to her bedroom door and knock softly. Nina opens it wearing an oversized t-shirtand fuzzy socks, her hair twisted up in a messy bun. “What’s up?”
I hold out my phone, showing her the screenshot of the earlier text. “I got this today during work.”
Her expression changes immediately as she reads the message. She pulls me into her room and closes the door behind us, even though we’re alone in the apartment.
“Sarah, this sounds exactly like Alex.” She sits on her bed and pats the space beside her. “When did you get it?”
I sink down next to her, suddenly exhausted. “Today at work. I was trying to convince myself it was just a wrong number or a prank.”
“From an unknown number?”
“Yeah. I screenshotted it before I could talk myself out of it.”
Nina studies the message again, her face grim. “This isn’t a wrong number. ‘I’ll never stop looking for you’ is way too specific. Someone knows you’re hiding.”
The words make my stomach drop with familiar dread. We’ve had this conversation before, back when I first decided to leave New York. Nina was the one who helped me research how to disappear and how to start over somewhere new without leaving obvious traces. She insisted on coming with me, knowing I had no one else. She didn’t either, but it was still a sacrifice for her, and I appreciated it then as much as I still do. I don’t want Alex to disrupt both our lives again.
She reaches over and squeezes my hand. “Tell me exactly what you remember about how you left things with Alex. Did he know you were planning to go?”
“No. I waited until he was traveling for work, packed everything I could fit in my car, and left.” I close my eyes, remembering those terrifying final weeks. “But he’s smart, Nina, and he has resources. If he really wanted to find me...”
“He would have done it months ago.” Her voice is firm, reassuring. “You changed your phone number, your address, and your job. You don’t have social media, and you’ve been careful about not using credit cards anywhere that could create a paper trail.”
“So, how did someone get my new number?”
“I don’t know. Maybe it really is a coincidence, or maybe someone’s fishing with random numbers hoping to get a response.” She hands my phone back to me. “Have you gotten any other weird messages? Phone calls? Anything else that felt off?”
I shake my head. “Just this one, but it scared me enough that I could barely focus on work for the rest of the day.”
