Chapter 1

I juggle the grocery bags and purse, my heels clacking loudly in the dimly lit hallway of my apartment building. The flickering lights add a touch of eeriness to the usual gloom of the fourth floor. I make a mental note to mention the broken lights to the super again.

My phone rings, cutting through the silence, and I smile when I see Sam’s name. Before I can speak, her voice bursts through the speaker. “So? So? So? ”

I laugh at her enthusiasm, shifting the bags in my hands. “The meeting was a breeze, Sammy. They’re thrilled with the mock-ups, especially for the new fantasy series.”

“I knew they would. That’s not my question,” she retorts. Chuckling to myself, I say the words that would make her day. The contract is mine! I’ll be illustrating the limited edition covers and the map for the entire series!”

Sam’s squeal of delight makes me laugh. “I knew it!” she exclaims. “You’ve put in so many late nights on this project. It’s your time to shine!” Her faith in me makes my throat tighten. I miss her like a phantom limb. A small part of me resents Greg for whisking her away to Toronto.

“I’m hopeful, finally,” I say with a sigh. Lord knows it has been a tough couple of months trying to figure out corners to cut.

“See, like I always say, sometimes you need to take that leap of faith instead of playing it safe.” She reiterates the words she’s been telling me since we were in pigtails. I can almost always see them coming now.

“I think—” My words falter as my gaze shifts to the white envelope lying on my pink welcome mat.

“That’s strange,” I mutter. A chill runs through me, turning my palms cold. I scan the dark hallway, searching for a reason behind the sudden sense of dread.

“What is?” Sam’s voice crackles through the phone.

“There is an envelope on my doorstep.” I reply, crouching to pick it up.

“So?”

“Why is it left here instead of in the mailbox?” I wonder aloud. Maybe it was full.

“Who sent it?” Sam asks.

I flip the envelope over, examining it from every angle. There are no stamps, no return address.

“It’s blank,” I say, my voice tinged with unease.

“We won’t know until you open it. Do it—I’m curious now.”

I take a deep breath, trying to steady my shaking hands. Sliding a finger under the flap, I tear the envelope open. A sweet, floral scent wafts out before crimson rose petals spill onto the doormat. My heart skips as memories of roses on my windshield flash through my mind.

I can faintly hear Sam ask me something, but I’m too frozen to respond. I focus on the note in my hand. “It’s time we meet, don’t you think?” it reads. My mind races as I recognize the photos that follow, all from this past week.

The first is of me and Grace at the Neo Publishers Convention from two days ago. The next shows me leaving the yoga studio, mat in hand. The close-up shots of my slightly uncovered cleavage and my ass clad in tights make me gulp in fear. I feel violated.

The final picture makes me gasp. I know exactly where it was taken. The realization that someone was there with me sends a cold wave of terror through me.

Panic grips me tightly, my throat constricting as I confess what’s been gnawing at me for days. “Sam, someone has been stalking me.”

I look around the hallway, half-expecting someone to leap from the shadows. My heart pounds as I fumble with my keys. The key slips from my grasp, jangling loudly against the floor.

“What the fuck? What do you mean?” All humor is gone from Sam’s voice.

“There are pictures of me in the envelope, taken all over the city,” I sob, my voice breaking. I bend to pick up the keys, but Sam’s urgent whisper halts me. “Wait! The envelope might be a trap.”

“Sam…” I whisper, fear engulfing all my senses, making black spots dance before my eyes.

Her words slice through the terror, echoing in my ears. “You said the envelope is blank, which means someone must have hand-delivered it. What if that person is inside your apartment?”

As the implication sinks in, I start inching away from the door, my mind racing. My sweat-soaked satin blouse clings to me, heavy with dread. I need to stay calm. Taking a deep breath, I ball my trembling fingers into a fist.

Heart pounding in my chest, I kick off my heels because I know I can’t run far in them. Shoving the envelope into my purse, I hold the phone close to my mouth and whisper, “I am getting out of here.” I disconnect the call, my pulse racing as I move silently towards the stairs.

I clutch my phone like a lifeline as I sprint toward the elevator. My naked feet don’t make a sound, but to my ears, each step announces my escape like drums. Glancing over my shoulder, I jab at the elevator button with frantic urgency.

The ding of the elevator doors opening feels like a cruel twist of fate. I hold my breath as I rush inside and jab the close button, knowing that the emergency bell is useless.

Just before the metal doors close, I catch a fleeting glimpse of a man emerging from my apartment, his shadowy form sending ice through my veins.

The elevator descends slowly, each second feeling like an eternity. The knowledge that he might be pursuing me makes my heart race faster. Who is he? Why is he following me? Shaking my head, I remind myself that I just need to focus on getting out of here right now.

When the elevator finally reaches the ground floor, I burst into the lobby. I fumble with my car keys, finally unlocking the door and sliding into the driver’s seat. As I throw the car into reverse, my phone rings, but I don’t take my eyes off the road.

When my phone rings incessantly, I answer it. “Ariel? Are you okay, babe? Talk to me!” Sam asks frantically.

“I’m here. I’m okay. Sam, I saw someone coming out of my apartment,” I tell her, my voice on the edge of sobbing. Adrenaline is fading, and my hand on the wheel shakes uncontrollably, but I keep driving.

“What the hell is going on, Ari?”

I choke out the words, “Weird things have been happening all week. I thought I was just paranoid, but someone’s been following me.”

“Damn it! Why didn’t you tell me this?” Her voice carries a hurt edge, and it twists my heart.

“You just had Hughie a month ago. I didn’t want to burden you,” I explain, trying to sound reasonable, but the lie is clear even to me. Maybe I was afraid to admit it, to make it real.

“You are my trouble. Don’t you dare forget that, you idiot! Whatever’s going on, you call me first. Got it?” she says. Her command leaves no room for argument.

“Yes, I will.”

“Where are you going now?” Sam’s voice trembles with concern.

I steady myself, trying to think clearly. “I need to be unpredictable. The man seems to know everywhere I go. I’ve got my essentials—cash, cards, laptop.”

“Go to your mother’s place.”

I flinch at the mention of her. “She hasn’t spoken to me in a year. I’ll just be an imposition for her.”

I force myself to ignore the sting. My gaze flicks to the rearview mirror, checking for any sign of pursuit.

“Come here, please,” Sam pleads.

Chuckling bitterly, I say, “My passport is back at home, and I hardly think going to Canada is a solution.”

“Then go to your grandad’s cabin. It’s a few hours away, and if this stalker’s been after you for a week, he won’t know about it. You haven’t been there in years.”

The Haven cabin? Yes! That could work. My heart lightens at the thought. I mentally list what I’ll need—gas, supplies. The idea of returning to my childhood sanctuary soothes the tight knot of fear in my chest.

“You can recuperate there and make a plan,” Sam says firmly. “If you need me, I’ll come down too. For now, just get to a safe place.”

I nod to myself. The secluded cabin is in an area I know well. It’s the perfect place to hide out until I can figure out what to do next.

“You’re right,” I agree. “I’ll head to the cabin. I know Ken keeps it stocked for winter.”

“Good. I know the reception can be spotty, so call me when you can, but keep texting. If you make me lose what little sleep I get, I will kill you, Ariel!” Sam’s tough love is evident; even a deaf person could hear the worry in her voice.

I assure Sam I’ll follow her orders and fill up on gas. Despite my better judgment, I call my mother, but it goes straight to voicemail, as usual. I keep a nervous eye on my surroundings and then head for Haven Valley, Montana.

The landscape shifts when I reach the town. Snow-covered trees and houses flank on either side of the road. It reminds me of building snowmen and cozy evenings with hot chocolate and campfire stories at the cabin.

A sudden jerk of the car snaps me back to reality. I didn’t notice that the snowfall has turned into a blizzard. I grip the steering wheel tightly as the car’s tires struggle for traction on the slick road.

Through the blur, I spot the “Lake Up Ahead” sign and know I’m close. As the cabin comes into view, I exhale in relief.

I pull into the driveway, the snow crunching under the tires. Shivering, I turn off the engine and sit for a moment, the biting cold making my breath fog up the window.

My bare feet are numb, so I look for something to shield them from the snow. I smile when I find my old Tweety slippers tucked under a bag. They won’t offer much warmth, but they’ll do. I text Sam to let her know I’ve arrived, grab my bag, and step out. The snow wraps around me, but the familiar scent of pine lets me know I’m home.

I dash to the front door and immediately jam the key in the lock, jimmying it to open in a hurry. Despite my best efforts, the lock won’t budge.

“Come on,” I mutter under my breath. Frustration mingles with the bitter cold as I try to pull out the key, only to find the lock completely jammed.

Recalling the back window I used to climb through as a child, I head to the rear of the cabin. Snowflakes sting my skin like icy needles. I grab a rock and hurl it at the window, silently apologizing to Grandpa.

The glass shatters with a loud crash, and I wince at the echo. I pull out the broken shards and, gripping the wooden frame, jumping through the window. As I land, a sharp, searing pain shoots through my heel.

I look down to see a glistening shard of glass embedded in the flesh, having gone through the thin slipper. Blood begins trickling from the cut.

“Fuck me!” I curse, the agony nearly making me collapse.

“Gladly, but how about introductions first?” a commanding voice booms in the room.

The kitchen lights flicker and my heart skips a beat. A tall, rugged man stands in the doorway, gun aimed at me. I gasp, taking in the outline of a chiseled body under his black t-shirt. His shaggy brown hair is tousled, and his square jaw is hidden under a peppery beard. His piercing green eyes, full of curiosity and concern, draw me in despite the danger.

My vision blurs, and my legs feel like jelly. I struggle to stay upright. His eyes widen as he takes in my disheveled state. He eases off the trigger, lowers the gun, and steps towards me.

My body trembles violently, my vision closing in and darkening at the edges. I collapse onto the freezing floor. The last thing I see is the man’s worried face before everything goes black.