Chapter 1 - THE BOX OUTSIDE HER DOOR
The cardboard box sitting on my welcome mat had no return address.
Just my name, written in thick black letters.
CLARAARA.
For three terrible seconds, I couldn't move.
Trent knew where I lived. He knew my schedule, my weaknesses, and exactly how to frighten me without leaving enough evidence for anyone to believe me.
I glanced toward the hallway.
Empty.
The overhead light flickered above the stairs.
I didn't touch the box.
Instead, I stepped back inside, locked the door, and called the police.
Then I remembered the business card the stranger had left in the Mercedes.
Ten numbers.
No name.
I stared at it before dialing.
He answered on the second ring.
"Yes?"
"It's me."
A pause.
"The woman from Il Camto?"
"Yes."
His voice changed immediately.
"Are you safe?"
"I don't know."
"What happened?"
"There's a box outside my apartment."
Silence.
Then he asked, "Did you open it?"
"No."
"Good. Leave it alone. Have you called the police?"
"Yes."
"Then stay inside until they arrive."
I swallowed.
"Who are you?"
Another pause.
"Victor."
"I know your first name."
"That's enough for now."
Under different circumstances, I might have argued.
Instead, I whispered, "I'm scared."
His answer came without hesitation.
"I understand."
Twenty minutes later, two police officers arrived.
They examined the package and determined it could be opened safely.
Inside was my favorite blue sweater.
The one I'd left behind at Trent's condo.
Folded neatly.
Beneath it lay a photograph.
Me.
Sleeping in my apartment.
My blood turned cold.
The photograph had been taken from somewhere inside my bedroom.
A handwritten note was attached.
You can leave me, Claraara. But you can't hide from me.
One officer immediately began documenting the evidence.
The other asked whether Trent had ever possessed a key.
I nodded.
"He gave his copy back."
"Could he have made another?"
My stomach tightened.
"Yes."
Then my phone vibrated.
An unknown number.
A photograph appeared.
It showed Victor standing outside Il Camto the previous evening.
Beneath it was a message.
Your new friend has secrets. Ask him what happened to his wife.
I stared at the screen.
May you like
I hadn't known Victor was married.
And something about that message told me Trent knew far more about the stranger than I did.
