Chapter 3

At midnight, my phone suddenly buzzed.

It was a message from Larisse Payne, the neighbor next door.

[Janet, what are you guys doing over there? I keep hearing banging and clattering. My kids have school tomorrow.]

I typed back: [Larisse, it's not me making all that noise. A group of people is planning a prank livestream in the apartment tonight. They might trigger the fire alarm. Please lock your door tonight, and don't panic if you hear anything.]

Larisse immediately sent three question marks and replied: [What kind of prank? Trigger the fire alarm? Are you young people completely crazy? Mrs. Brooks upstairs is 80 years old and lives alone. She has a heart condition too. Did any of you even think about other people before pulling something like this?]

My fingers froze above the screen.

Melanie Brooks. She lived alone on the eighth floor. All three of her sons lived out of town.

A scene from my previous life slammed into my mind.

After the fire alarm went off, Melanie was so terrified that she fell down the stairs. She spent the entire night in the hospital fighting for her life.

I was there that night, desperately trying to keep people from rushing down the stairs, but no one listened.

In the end, management announced that I was the one who had made the call. Yvette became the laughingstock of the whole building.

However, not a single person mentioned Melanie getting hurt.

I grabbed a jacket and rushed out. The night wind hit me the second I stepped outside. The elevator stopped on the eighth floor, and I knocked on Melanie's door.

She opened it wearing an old sweater. When she saw me, a smile spread across her face. "Janet? What brings you here so late?"

"Mrs. Brooks, there's going to be a fire drill in the building around 3:00 am later. Please don't be scared. If you hear the alarm, don't rush downstairs. Just lock your door and stay inside."

"A fire drill? Oh, okay, okay. I understand."

I added quickly, "No matter how loud it gets outside, please don't panic. I'll come check on you tomorrow morning."

She smiled and nodded, then gently patted the back of my hand. Her palm was thin and warm. It reminded me so much of my grandmother.

Once I knew Melanie was settled, I headed back toward the apartment.

Several lights were already on downstairs.

The door to the apartment Yvette had rented was wide open. Voices filled the place, and I could smell the sharp, sulfurous stink of the smoke bombs all the way from the hallway.

Yvette turned around and saw me. A slow smile spread across her face, but there was no surprise in it. Instead, she looked almost satisfied. It was the kind of smile worn by someone who had just gotten exactly what she wanted.

"I knew you wouldn't let me down." She held out a walkie-talkie. "You're in charge of watching the hallway. If any neighbors come out, calm them down."

I did not take it. The plastic casing of the walkie-talkie caught the cold light in her hand.

I reached into my bag and pulled out two printed statements. The paper made a soft rustling sound as I unfolded it.

It read: [I, Janet Chapman, will not participate in any activity involving the creation of smoke, the triggering of a fire alarm, or the filming of prank videos.]

I had already signed both copies and stamped my fingerprint.

I placed one on the table in front of Yvette. Then, I walked outside and taped the other one to the bulletin board.

The entire room went silent for a moment before it exploded.

Shane slammed the roll of tape in his hand onto the floor. "Janet, what the hell is this? You think we're in a courtroom?"

Yoel leaned over to read the statement and let out a harsh laugh. "Seriously? Is this necessary? You're making it sound like we're committing a crime."

Yvette's eyes turned red. She snatched the statement off the table. Without even reading it, she crumpled it into a ball and threw it hard onto the floor. The paper rolled twice before stopping right in front of my shoes.

When Yvette spoke, her voice was low and trembling with hurt. "Janet, I've included you in everything since high school. Parties, trips, videos. I've always saved you a spot. And this is how you embarrass me in front of everyone?"

I bent down, picked up the crumpled paper, smoothed it flat, folded it neatly, and put it back in my bag. "I just don't want to participate."

Yvette raised her phone and pointed the camera at me. The livestream was already running.

"Hey, everyone. We've got a little situation. The Ms. Chapman listed on our cast and crew sheet just showed up and posted a statement saying she won't participate because she's afraid something might happen."

The comments started flying across the screen.

[Her again?]

[She was the first one rushing in when she thought she could get attention. Now that something might go wrong, she's pretending she has nothing to do with it?]

[She's so fake.]

Yvette wiped the corner of her eye for the camera. The movement was exactly the same as in the voice message she had sent earlier, right down to the little sob.

"It's okay. Everyone, let's keep going. We're not changing our plans because of one person. She's probably just nervous, so don't attack her."

Shane stood up and walked over to Yvette. Right in front of the camera, he put his hand on her shoulder and pulled her closer. The movement was so natural, so practiced.

Then he looked at me. "You're standing here tonight. Either take the walkie-talkie and do your job, or hold up your phone and film me the whole time. Your choice."

I stared at the hand resting on Yvette's shoulder. It was the same hand that had pushed me off the roof in my previous life.

A smile suddenly spread across my face. "Okay. I'll stand right here."