Chapter 17 The Room With The Locked Door

• The morning came in pieces.
• Ivy woke curled on the floor beside her bed, her cheek pressed against the cool wood, one arm tucked beneath her ribs like she’d been protecting herself in sleep. Her body ached from the position, joints stiff, skin creased from the edge of the rug. The air in the apartment was still and stale. No sounds. No footfalls. No voice calling her name.
• Victor hadn’t come back.