Page 15 of Mortify

And not just Bjorn.

The photos Dylan showed me flash through my mind.

Florencia playing in the clubhouse.

All the children who call that place home, who think they're safe behind those walls.

They don't know about the monster who's been watching.

Who's been planning.

Who uses my love for them as a weapon against me.

I get out of the car on unsteady legs, wind cutting through the thin dress immediately.

Goosebumps rise on my skin, but I don't hurry.

Each step is measured, careful in the ridiculous heels.

The last thing I need is to fall and give him something else to criticize.

The doorman nods as I enter, recognizing me.

I wonder what he thinks, seeing me arrive in clothes inappropriate for the weather, leaving hours later with dead eyes and careful movements.

Does he know?

Do any of them know what happens in 6B?

Or do they just not care?

The elevator ride feels endless.

My reflection in the mirrored walls shows a woman I don't recognize.

Styled and polished and empty.

A doll dressed up for someone else's pleasure.

Sixth floor.

The hallway stretches before me, plush carpet muffling my footsteps.

My heartbeat pounds in my ears as I approach his door.

I could still run.

Even now, I could?—

"It's open," his voice calls from inside before I can knock.

Of course. He knew exactly when I'd arrive.

Probably watched from his window as I parked, timed my journey up.

Everything is a game to him, and he always has to win.

I push open the door with trembling fingers.

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