Page 27 of Push My Buttons
Wren
Ispendhourscurledup on Maya's couch, staring at the ceiling fan as it turns in lazy circles above me. The blanket she gave me is soft and smells like lavender fabric softener, but it offers no comfort. My mind won't stop racing, replaying every moment, every detail. The flowers. The pendant. The card with my real name.
Maya's gentle snores drift from her bedroom. She insisted I take her bed, but I couldn't bear the thought of stealing her comfort after everything else I've taken from her tonight. Knowledge. Safety. Ignorance.
The digital clock on her microwave blinks 3:34 AM. I haven't slept at all. I’m glad I don’t have a shift today or I would be running on fumes.
Every creak in the floorboards makes my heart stutter. Every shift in the shadows has me holding my breath. I'm not just afraid for myself anymore—I'm terrified for Maya. What if whoever left those flowers follows me here? What if they hurt her to get to me?
The thought sits like ice in my veins.
I can't stay. Not here. Not when my presence puts her in danger.
Moving silently, I gather my things and stuff them back into my backpack. I find a notepad in her kitchen drawer and write:Thank you. Not safe for you if I stay. Will message soon. Lock your doors. -W
I leave it propped against the coffee pot where she'll find it in the morning.
One last glance at her closed bedroom door, and I slip out, making sure the door locks behind me.
The night air is cool against my face as I hurry down the empty street. I fumble for my phone, fingers trembling slightly as I type a message to Lorna. I need advice—somewhere safe to go, somewhere with locked doors and discretion.
I’m sorry to bother you. Do you know of a secure place I can stay tonight?I tap send and keep walking, eyes scanning the darkened windows and quiet sidewalks.
The response is quick.Head to the Best Western Hotel. It's got good security. They have the work card on file. Message me when you're safe.
Relief washes over me. I adjust my course, heading towards the hotel. The promise of security cameras, locked doors, and a staff trained in discretion feels like a lifeline.
Once I arrive, the lobby is serene, the receptionist barely gives me a second glance when I let her know to put it on the work card. I make my way to the room, the weight of the day pressing down on me. The hotel room, with its simple bed, mini kitchenette, and private bathroom, feels like a haven.
I type a message to Lorna.I'm safe. Thank you.
Then I drop my bag by the door and collapse onto the bed without even taking off my shoes. The exhaustion of the day crashes over me in waves, and I finally surrender to it, letting darkness pull me under.
I dream of flowers growing through floorboards, of pendant necklaces tightening around my throat, of my brother's hands reaching for me through prison bars. I wake gasping, drenched in sweat, the gray light of dawn filtering through the curtains.
A soft knock at the door makes me jolt upright.
"Wren? You in there, honey?"
Lorna's voice. I exhale slowly and force myself off the bed, running a hand through my tangled pink hair before opening the door.
Lorna stands there in a vibrant kimono-style robe, her blue hair freshly styled. Her eyes widen slightly as she takes in my appearance.
"Jesus, you look like hell warmed over," she says, but her tone is gentle. “Everything okay?"
I shake my head and step back, letting her into the room. She closes the door behind her and leans against it, waiting patiently while I collect myself enough to sign.
"Someone broke into my apartment,"I sign, my hands shaking slightly."Left flowers. Black lilies."
Lorna's expression darkens. "That's... concerning. Have you contacted the police?"
I shake my head again. What would I tell them? That someone left me expensive flowers? That they used a name I legally abandoned? That I'm afraid because my serial killer brother was just arrested hundreds of miles away?
"Okay," she says slowly. "So you needed somewhere safe to crash. I get that." She studies me for a moment, then adds, "You can stay here as long as you need. But maybe we should think about getting you some extra security. We can help you find a new apartment with better locks, at minimum."
I nod gratefully, relief washing through me. Lorna doesn't press for details I'm not ready to give. She just offers solutions. It's one of the things I've always appreciated about her.
"Actually," she continues, a slight smile curving her lips, "this might be perfect timing. Have you thought any more about the calendar shoot we discussed?"
