Page 5 of Submission

“There’s a leak in the apartment below yours. You’re responsible for the damage if you don’t address it, but it’s up to you, miss. I have other apartments to check as well.”

“It’s after six,” I say through the door.

“Plumbers work twenty-four hours, miss.”

“Fine,” I mutter to myself as I unlock the door.

On the other side is a tall man, wearing a steel grey maintenance uniform. He strides inside with a serious look and a toolbox. He’s wearing a baseball cap, which hides most of his facial features, but he walks straight towards the kitchen sink and gets to work.

“How long will this take?” I ask, dialing the number for the front desk, however nobody answers.

“Not that long,” he mutters as he looks underneath the sink.

I feel a little foolish for suspecting him when he’s clearly just doing his job. I’m just a little spooked by everything that’s happened, I guess.

“Okay.”

“Can you tell me how many people live in this place?” he asks abruptly. His question takes me by surprise and without thinking it through, I respond immediately.

“Two.”

“I see.”

Now that the man’s question has sunk in, it strikes me as odd. Why does a plumber need to know how many people live here?

“Why do you need to know that?”

“Just want to know how much water is being consumed.”

“What does that have to do with a leak?”

“It gives me an idea of the extent of the damage.”

I continue to call the front desk with my cell to verify his story as he wanders into the bathroom that Naomi and I share.

I trail quietly after him to watch him work; his methods seem a bit strange. He’s not really doing anything. He’s just tapping things and looking under the counter.

“I’m going to have to check whether there’s some water leakage on the floors. What room is on the other side of this bathroom? Is it a bedroom?”

“I think I would know if there was water under the floors or in the walls,” I say, frowning, a sense of unease creeping up on me.

“Miss, please let me do my job,” he replies tersely, yet he never looks me in the eye.

Not once.

“There’s nothing wrong with the bedrooms,” I insist, suddenly not wanting him to continue. “Which apartment downstairs is having the problem again?”

Before he can answer, there’s a knock on the door, and a familiar voice calls out my name. “Megan? Are you home?”

I frown at the plumber, who seems a little tense now.

“Were you expecting somebody?” he asks as if it’s an inconvenience for him.

“I think it’s time for you to leave,” I say sharply, moving towards the door in quick steps and opening it to reveal Vaughn and Christian standing there.

“Hey, Hunter changed the locks, and we need a place to crash for a few hours. You don’t mind, do you?”

Normally, I would have been a little put off since I barely know them, but seeing their faces brings me only a feeling of relief right now.

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