Chapter 15: Monique's Terms

Cassia's POV

I climbed the stoop and stood one step above Cory, so that he had to look up.

"Whose shirt is it?" he said again. "Come on. Say it."

"It's mine now," I said. "Put it in the folder."

His thumb twitched on the screen.

I went past him and rang Kat's bell, and he sat there filming the door until it opened.

Kat stood in the doorway in a hoodie and one sock, took a long look at him, and said, "Oh, he's still here."

She pulled me inside and locked the door.

At noon, my phone buzzed with a message from a number I had saved on Monday.

"Tonight, 7. Bluebird Lofts, 4C. Just you. I'll leave the door open."

I read it at my desk with a half-finished claim in front of me.

Kat read it over my shoulder.

"It's a trap," she said. "Or she's going to cry on you."

"Probably both."

"Take the bat."

"I'm not taking the bat."

"Then text me every half hour."

The loft was on the fourth floor, with a freight elevator and a door painted dark green.

It was open, as she had said.

Inside there was one long room with brick walls and tall windows over the river.

There was a couch, a rug, and a table with two chairs, and nothing on the walls.

It had cost my grandmother's house money, and it looked like a hotel room somebody had forgotten to check out of.

Monique stood by the kitchen counter in a plain gray sweater with her hair tied back.

She had taken off her makeup.

"Thank you for coming," she said. "Please sit. I'll stand. I'd rather."

I sat on the couch.

"I'm going to say what I promised," she said. "And then there's something you can listen to. You can stop me anytime."

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