Page 5 of The Devil She Knows
“I’m not really a fan of scary movies.” She gave the call button another press, still nothing happening.
“Pressing it harder’s not going to make it work, you know.”
She was right, but Sam still gave the call button one last hard, petulant press, really putting her weight behind it, her thumb bending from the force.
Their gazes clashed in the mirror and the stranger’s lips curved in a smile that all but screamedI told you so. Heat gathered in Sam’s face, and even without the mirror, she’d have known there was a splotchy blush spreading down her throat, that the tips of her ears poking through her hair had gone scarlet.
She turned, averting her eyes, avoiding her own reflection and the woman’s, too, that smirk infuriating, the sight of it doing little to quell the boiling of Sam’s blood.
“Can you call the management company or something?”
“Who? Me?”
“No, I was talking to the other person in the room.” Sam glanced pointedly around the otherwise empty elevator. “Yes,you. The call button’s not working, clearly. Seeing as you and I are the only two people unfortunate enough to be trapped inside this elevator,someoneshould call for help. And considering my phone is dead …”
“Oh, I don’t live here. I’m just visiting.”
Sam rolled her eyes, what little remained of her patience wearing thinner by the minute, practically cheesecloth by this point. “Okay, well, could you call 911?”
“Sure.” She grinned. “What’s the number?”
Sam’s jaw dropped.
Another laugh escaped the stranger’s lips, sparing Sam the trouble of coming up with a reply. “Geez, lighten up. I’m fucking with you.”
“I’m not in the mood,” Sam snapped, frustration reaching fever pitch. “Could you just—Jesus, could you please just call somebody?”
“Would if I could, but alas …” She grabbed at her poofy pink skirt. “No pockets, no phone, no dice.”
Sam only barely resisted face-palming. “That’s just—that’s great.Awesome.Fan-fucking-tastic.” She gestured to the panel of unresponsive buttons in front of her, which might as well have belonged to her nephew’s pop-it for all the good it did. Freaking useless. “My cousin and I watched that Disney made-for-TV movieTower of Terrorwhen I was a kid, and personally I’m not keen on having my spirit trapped in some malfunctioning elevator, so if you have any bright ideas as to how we’re supposed to get out of here, feel free to chime in.”
“Yeesh. Scary movies reallyaren’tyour thing, are they?”
“I never claimed to be a connoisseur of the genre, that’s for sure.”
Chances were, someone would try to use the elevator sooner rather than later. They’d realize it was out of order and alert the super and Sam would be out of here in, fingers crossed, no time. Until then, she decided to make herself at home, hunkering down in the back right corner of the elevator, crossing her legs and tucking her coat around her as she settled in for however long it took for help to arrive.
The stranger joined her down on the floor. “So”—shecocked her head in that uncanny way that made the hair on Sam’s body stand on end—“what is?”
Sam sighed, perfectly fine with waiting this malfunction out in silence. “What iswhat?”
“Yourthing, silly. Keep up.”
Excuse her for not following the riddled ramblings of someone she could only presume, with what evidence she had, to be a madwoman. “Hannah, I guess.”
The woman made a derisive sound and kicked Sam’s foot. “Your ex-girlfriend doesn’t count.”
Sam scowled. “Says who?”
“Says me.”
And who died and made this woman the authority on special interests? “Fine. Then I guess I don’t have one.”
“Bullshit. Everyone’s got a thing.”
Sam stared pensively at the floor.
Four years ago, when she had moved to the city with nothing but a suitcase and a prayer, a whole new world at her fingertips, she had set out to broaden her horizons. She’d saidsure, why noteach time her coworkers invited her out for drinks. She’d joined a queer running club only to swiftly remember she hated running, and then she’d signed up for a cozy mystery book club, which was much more her speed. She’d taken pottery classes and had volunteered at a local animal shelter, which led to her adopting Nacho and Pumpkin. She’d downloaded Hinge and had gone on a handful of first dates, and then, one fateful Sunday in March, her whole life had changed.
