Page 61 of Nora's Kraken

Holly talks about a hiking trip she’s planning this January, something that sounds terrifying as hell to me—being out in the woods in those freezing temps—but winter backpacking is next up on her self-reliance bucket list and she sounds really excited.

Kenna, too, is hoping to hear some good news about the artwork she’s been working on the last couple of years. She’s gotten deep into illustration, and is close to landing a contract with a prolific monster romance writer for a multi-book series she’s planning to release over the next couple years.

“If I get this job, I’m pretty much guaranteed more work from the exposure alone. So then I can spend my days just daydreaming and sketching sexy monsters.” Kenna sighs and leans back against the booth. “But seriously, though, getting this contract would be so fucking awesome.”

“I’m sure you’ll get it,” I tell her, meaning it. Kenna is talented as hell, and it would be a huge mistake on the author’s part not to hire her.

“What about you, Nora?” Holly asks. “You still happy at the bookstore?”

A few weeks ago, I might have said yes. And part of me would have meant it, truly. I’m happy enough with my work, but it’s… just a job. Not something I ever dreamed about doing, and not something I see for myself when I think about my life five or ten years down the road.

Still, it’s hard to admit that, and even harder when my two best friends are doing such cool things with their lives. But whether it’s the confidence I’m rediscovering as I’m forced to confront my fears, or the permission I’m finally feeling to be myself again, I decide to be honest with them.

“It’s alright,” I admit, “but I’ve been thinking about going back to school.”

It’s been there, in the back of my mind, since the moment I got off the bus in Seattle to start my post-Daniel life. Finishing my degree, finally starting the career I’d given up when I dropped out to move to DC.

Both Holly and Kenna smile brightly.

“You should do it,” Kenna says, with absolute confidence. “It’s never too late to go back.”

“She’s right,” Holly agrees. “I think it would be great for you, Nora.”

“Thanks, guys,” I tell them both, heart filling up with the relief of saying those words out loud and being met with the support and approval part of me always knew would be there.

We stay at the restaurant for another hour talking and laughing, and when I finally leave and find Travis waiting in an SUV to give me a ride back to Elias’s house, I feel lighter than I have in weeks.

There’s one more stop I need to make before heading back to Elias’s house.

Travis and I pull up to my apartment, and even though one of the additional security personnel on his team has done a sweep of the building, I’m still nervous.

“Thanks for making the stop here,” I tell him.

“Of course, Ms. Perry,” Travis says, all professionalism. “Would you like me to come in and wait while you pack?”

I shake my head and smile a little, wishing he’d feel comfortable enough around me to use my first name, but sensing that’s not really his style.

“It’s alright,” I tell him, opening the passenger side door. “I’ll just be a few minutes.”

He looks like he wants to argue, but eventually nods and lets me know to take all the time I need.

Even with the knowledge I’m reasonably safe here, my heart rate still ticks up as I walk to the front door. I can’t help but scan the yard around the building, look up and down the street, and try to shake off the feeling of being watched.

The last we heard from Blair, Daniel is still in Vancouver. I trust Blair’s info is good, but I’m still jumpy and afraid of my own shadow when it comes to being out in the world.

Especially here, where Daniel invaded my personal space and sense of safety in the worst way. It puts a heavy weight in my gut as I let myself into the building and quickly climb the stairs to my floor.

I don’t regret asking Elias not to go to the police. My years with Daniel taught me there’s a different set of standards and expectations for wealthy, powerful people dealing with law enforcement. Pair that with the thin evidence we have and the fact that Daniel hasn’t actually done anything to get himself arrested yet, and it makes me more than a little skittish to involve any cops at this point.

Opening the front door of my apartment and inhaling the familiar scent of home, the pit in my stomach grows even bigger.

I’m proud of this place. It’s small, but cozy and tidy and mine. It’s the first place I’ve lived by myself, the first place I’ve made my own, and the realization I might never feel totally comfortable here again makes my heart heavy.

Doing a quick lap of the apartment, I fill up my watering can and water my plants before heading into the bedroom to pack the things I want to bring to Elias’s place. More clothes, a couple pairs of shoes, and some of the makeup I didn’t already have with me is nearly enough to fill up the small duffel I grab from under the bed, but as I pull it out, something else comes with it.

It’s a manila envelope stuffed full of all the personal papers and photos I was able to take with me when I left DC. On a whim, I tuck that into the bag as well. It’s been a while since I went through it, and the idea of sharing those memories with Elias chases away some of the lingering gloom.

Satisfied I’ve packed what I need, I pause once more at the front door before flipping off the lights, taking a long look at my little haven. With a sigh, and with no idea when I’ll be back here for good, I shut the door and lock it before heading back down to the waiting car.

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