Chapter 14

Alanza’s POV

“It’s not real. Just a nightmare.”

The dream clung to me. My heart hammered hard against my ribs. I rolled onto my side, fighting the shivers that ran through my body. The fleece blanket was useless. Too hot, then too cold. If I threw it off, I felt naked and freezing, like I had been dumped in a snowbank. If I kept it on, I felt like I was drowning in sweat. Either way, it was awful.

The feeling from the dream stayed in my head. I could still sense the crunch of leaves and the gritty dirt on my bare feet. Unease crawled under my skin. My anxiety flared up, trying to take over. I pressed my eyes shut. Ignore it. I needed to sleep. If I could just drift off, I would wake up feeling better. Renewed.

My body refused. I couldn’t get comfortable. The sofa, which had felt so cozy hours ago, was now lumpy and hard. Minutes crawled by, then more minutes. I was still wide awake.

A groan of defeat escaped me. I pushed myself up. The room swam for a second. I grabbed the sofa arm to steady myself. Bathroom first. Then medicine. The walk to the toilet felt like a marathon.

By the time I was done, sweat ran down my back. My heart pounded. I actually felt proud of myself for not collapsing. Maybe surviving a cold should get a badge.

Next was the kitchen. I hunted for the Tylenol I’d left on the counter. Pulling the cotton out of the bottle cap was a major effort. Every small thing made me want to quit and lie down again, but I forced myself to keep moving. Congratulations, Alanza. You did it.

I popped two pills into my mouth. I filled a glass at the sink and swallowed the medicine. The pills tasted bitter. I chased it down with more tap water. I had bottles in the fridge, only five feet away, but suffering seemed easier than walking that distance right now.

I leaned against the counter, trying to find the energy to walk back to the living room. The hair stood up on my arms. My anxiety was full-blast again. That old feeling of being watched returned.

I used to trust this feeling. It kept me safe from Teo and his friends. But there was nothing here to be afraid of. Old habits die hard, I thought.

I dragged myself to the windows and pulled the thin curtains closed. The fabric didn't block all the light, but I felt a little safer. Outside, the clouds looked heavy and dark. It promised rain. The gloom made it look like evening, not early afternoon. I felt like I had been sick for a week, not just five hours.

I found my phone and squinted at the bright screen. I typed a quick text to Mrs. Elkins.

[AVA: Not feeling well today. Might not make it in tomorrow. Will keep you updated.]

I hated leaving her short-staffed. But I couldn't work like this. My legs swayed beneath me. Maybe the bedroom was a better idea. The bed was softer than the couch. A dark room might help me sleep. I was about to walk toward the hall when a sound stopped me.

Scratch. Scrabble.

Claws on wood. The sound came from the front door.

Panic slammed into me. My feet felt glued to the floor. The fear from the dream came back, full force. It’s my imagination. It has to be.

Then I heard it again. Louder this time.

Slowly, I made myself move. One step. Then two. I crept down the hall, my heart beating in my ears. By the time I reached the door, my hands were slick with sweat. My breathing was fast and shallow. I took a deep breath and reached for the knob. My hand shook as I turned it. The click of the latch sounded huge in the silent apartment.

I cracked the door open an inch. Enough to look out, not enough for anyone to see in.

Nothing. The hallway was empty.

Relief washed over me. I started to close the door. Then a flash of silver caught my eye. Before I could react, something shoved the door hard. I stumbled back, losing my footing. A yelp of surprise and fear left my throat as I fell.

It wasn't a shadow or a monster that burst into my apartment.

It was a dog. A very familiar dog.

The silver husky, the one who kept escaping Animal Control, charged in. She sniffed the air like she owned the place. The feeling of being watched eased off my back. I leaned against the door and kicked it shut, coughing from the rush of cold air.

"Hey, doggy. You can't be in here." My voice was a frog's croak. My throat felt scratchy.

The dog's ears flicked toward me. She ignored me.

She went straight to the nearest window. She sniffed at the glass like it was hiding food.

"Come on, pup. I have to call Animal Control."

But first, I needed to sit down. The panic had drained all my energy. My legs were shaking too much to stand. I used the wall and the coffee table to keep my balance as I staggered to the sofa. I dropped onto it with a sigh. My phone was somewhere nearby. I had just texted Mrs. Elkins. But finding it felt like too much work.

"If you pee in here, you're going straight back outside," I warned her.

Her tail wagged once. She was a nice dog. Someone would adopt her quickly. But they would need a twenty-foot fence to keep this Houdini contained. I decided I would take her to the shelter in the morning. Right now, I was too busy feeling miserable. I hadn't invited her; she just forced her way in. Maybe she wanted to escape the heavy clouds and the coming rain. I couldn't blame a dog for wanting to be dry.

I knew I was making excuses. My soft heart wanted to keep her forever. I settled into the couch, hoping the Tylenol would start working. I watched the dog. I was definitely not keeping her, but I already had a name in mind.

Sombra.

It just sounded right.

The now-named dog I was definitely not keeping continued her search. Her nails clicked on the hardwood floor in a loud, comforting rhythm. She checked every window. Her inhales were hard and quick, like she was tracing a scent. Her ears stayed alert.

Was she looking for a way out?

Finally, she turned away from the windows. She walked toward the bedroom door. She paused at the threshold, nose twitching, taking in the scents inside. For a moment, I thought she might go in. Then she seemed to lose interest.

With a soft huff, she turned and padded back to where I lay on the couch. I reached out a hand. She nuzzled into it, her fur soft against my skin.

"You're a strange one, aren't you?" I murmured, scratching behind her ears.

She leaned into the touch. Her tail thumped gently against the floor.

"How the heck did you know my door wasn't locked?"