Still, I wouldn’t blame him for harboring doubts about my own ability to sustain a healthy relationship. I figured there was no time like the present to discuss it.

“Derek, I was wondering if you’ve-”

He emitted a soft snore and I realized he was sound asleep. Jet lag had hit him hard.

“Okay, we’ll talk later,” I murmured, then roused him enough to drag him off to bed, where he continued to sleep like a dead man.

It was five o’clock in the morning when the pounding began.

“What the hell is that?” Derek muttered.

“I don’t know,” I said, sounding whiny as I punched my pillow. Were they cleaning the streets? Or digging holes through concrete? The pounding continued, so I finally tossed the covers back and sat up. Throwing on my flimsy robe, I stood on wobbly legs as the pounding grew louder. By standing, I had a better grasp of the direction the noise was coming from. It wasn’t outside the building, I realized. Someone was pounding on my front door.

“I hope it’s not the little kids who just moved in,” I mumbled. “That won’t make anyone happy.”

That was when the screaming began.

Derek jumped out of bed and yanked on a pair of jeans. “Stay here.”

Ignoring his command, I raced after him down the hall, through the living room, and out to the workshop. I skidded to a halt behind him as he threw the door open.

It was Robin, wrapped in a trench coat and screaming as tears rolled down her cheeks.

She was covered in blood.

Chapter 2

Derek reached out, grabbed Robin around the shoulders, and pulled her inside.

“Oh, my God,” I cried, enfolding her in a hug. “What happened?”

“She’s in shock,” Derek surmised. Shoving the door closed, he led us both through the hall to the living room. Robin’s shrieks had faded to muffled whimpers and sobs.

I hadn’t noticed whether any of my neighbors were staring from their doorways, but was there any doubt that everyone in the building had heard the screams?