*“A family like the Whitakers can give you stability, Ethan,”* she had said at their engagement party, her fingers glittering with rented diamonds.

Now, that stability was proving to be a scaffold.

I parked my car three blocks away from my building, finding a dark spot beneath a dripping oak tree.

I walked quickly, my keys clutched between my fingers in the pocket of my coat.

The lobby of my apartment building was empty, the linoleum smelling of pine cleaner and wet umbrellas.

I avoided the elevator and took the stairs to the fourth floor, my boots making soft thuds on the carpeted steps.

Inside my apartment, I didn’t turn on the overhead lights.

I kept the lamps low, casting long, amber shadows across the living room.

I sat on the edge of the sofa, my phone clutched in my hand, waiting.

The silence of the room was heavy, broken only by the occasional hiss of the pipes.

Just after midnight, the phone buzzed, vibrating against my palm.

It was an unknown number.

I swiped the screen and put it to my ear. “Ethan?”