I didn’t realize how hard this would be.

Part of me wishes I’d chosen the coward’s way out. Break up with Ethan via text, get on the plane, and not have to deal with the fall out. So. Much. Easier.

If I’d done it that way, I wouldn’t be standing on my front lawn, listening to him shout and attract the attention of my elderly neighbors. I wouldn’t have to feel my stomach curl with guilt every time I hear the words why or how.

The movers carry my grandmother’s sofa to their truck, sending wary glances my way as they pass around us along the driveway. Awkward doesn’t even begin to cover it.

“I went out on a fucking limb for you!” Ethan says, red-faced from all the yelling. “And now you’re telling me it’s over? That you don’t want the job or me? Is this some kind of twisted joke?”

“It’s not a joke.” I try, for the fourth time now, to explain why we aren’t right for each other and that I’m looking for a fresh start, but he doesn’t really want to hear any of that. When I speak, he only hears how I’m hurting him, destroying his plans, and wrecking his life.

I can’t blame him. I don’t even know who this person is doing the breaking up. My voice sounds like an audio version of myself, repeatedly saying things like, “It wouldn’t be fair to you” and “Please try to understand.”

Who is that girl?

Ethan keeps calling her things like heartless and cold. The worst part is, I agree with him.

In all the yelling, I find myself debating whether I should donate an antique chest of drawers instead of focusing on the conversation at hand. Huh. That’s where I screwed up—I should have ended this a long time ago. Tess was right. Ethan was never the right guy, not for me. He doesn’t make me feel things, doesn’t hold my attention, doesn’t fascinate me, doesn’t make me want to run my tongue across his bare skin…the way Casper does.

The thought comes out of nowhere, and I straighten my spine. I’ve known the guy less than a day, officially, but he’s managed to infiltrate my every thought. Earlier when I walked into Penelope’s and saw him sitting there waiting, I felt my knees go weak. He’s practically a stranger and not even my type, but somehow he has the ability to make me feel more things in one day than Ethan has in eight months.

An old, familiar voice fills my mind. “Weak knees and belly butterflies—infatuation at its finest.” My best friend from high school, Madelyn, said that once to describe how she felt about her latest crush. I twist the charms on my bracelet she gave me, wishing we’d kept in touch. She moved away during our senior year, and I still miss her. I wonder what she’d say about all of this. Actually, I know what she would say. She would tell me to end it with Ethan. And she’d say I’m mentally deranged for crushing on my former stalker.

Or my current stalker? I’m not sure what he is now.

Everything changed after receiving my dad’s package. Casper told me the truth, and as much as I don’t like that he followed me without my permission, I get why he did it. There’s still someone else out there doing the same thing, someone with far more sinister intentions.

“Hello—are you even paying attention, Amelia?”

The hot sun glares over us, and I wipe a bead of sweat from my brow. “Of course…I just don’t know what to say.”

“Say you’ve lost your mind. You weren’t thinking rationally. Say you realize the Oltek job is a huge opportunity, and you’re not going to waste it.”

“I can’t say any of those things, Ethan.”

Another car pulls up, distracting us both. Thank God for the interruption—except it’s Casper.

“Who the fuck is this guy walking up to your house, Amelia?” Ethan says, and I don’t miss the accusation.

I know where his thoughts are headed. Having to explain Casper when I can barely explain myself? Impossible.

I struggle to find my voice. “He is a family friend here to help me with the move, that’s all.” It’s the truth. Kind of.

Ethan grabs my upper arm, his fingers digging into my skin as he steers us both toward the house. “You’ve been cheating on me, haven’t you?”

“Ethan, seriously? No!”

I can’t even bring myself to have sex with him, much less anyone else, and he assumes I’m cheating?

He laughs once, without a trace of humor. “You traitorous bitch! That’s what this is all about, isn’t it? I can’t believe—”

He flies backward, pulling me down with him. I brace myself, surprised to feel a pair of hands grip my waist, then carefully set me aside. Ethan lands on the grass with a thump.

Knocked out cold.

Casper is standing there, shaking out his fist. Behind us along the driveway, the movers explode into a mixture of clapping and cheering. All four of them witnessed what happened.

“You knocked him out,” I say, still unable to believe it.

Casper’s steely gaze passes over Ethan before coming back to me. “Yeah, I guess I did.”

“Why’d you hit him?”

He shrugs. “I didn’t like the way he was shouting or the way he grabbed you.”

I didn’t either, but sheesh. He could’ve asked him to stop, maybe gave him a heads-up first, not resort straight to violence.

“I was ending things. Normally he’s not so angry.” I don’t know why I feel the need to explain, but I do.

“You don’t seem too bent out of shape about the break up,” Casper points out.

I don’t even bother denying it. “I didn’t want him lying on my front lawn unconscious, either.” I bend down to check Ethan’s breath, notice its regular, then stand again.

Casper snorts. “He’s fine. He’ll come to in a second.” Then after a long pause, he says, “He was cheating on you, you know.”

I bite the inside of my cheek. Deep down, I think I knew.

There’s that feeling you get when you look into someone’s eyes that makes you feel like all they see is you, that you’re the sole person in their universe, and they’re endlessly fascinated.

Ethan never looked at me that way. His eyes were always looking ahead instead of what was right in front of him, much like Noah’s used to.

Man, I haven’t thought of my high school boyfriend in a long time. The similarities are there, between Noah and Ethan. Subtle, but noticeable.

Maybe it’s why I could never connect to Ethan. Or why I couldn’t bring myself to have sex with him. Maybe I wouldn’t let myself.

The guilt gripping my stomach eases, a little.

“You followed him?” I ask, not upset, simply curious.

“Just a few times, to make sure he wasn’t the perp or connected to the perp. He’s too young to have been the killer, but I still checked him out. There could be more than one, for all we know.”

Process of elimination.

“He’s a garbage person,” Casper says, surprising me. “You’re better off without him.”

“Thanks.” I say it so softly, I don’t know if he hears me.

A few seconds later I hear, “You’re welcome.”

* * *

At dawn the next morning, I’m standing at an airport window, waiting to be called for boarding. With Casper’s help, I managed to get everything out of my grandmother’s house, drop off the keys with the realtor, and pack a suitcase. Tess offered to keep my car, but bawled when I told her I was leaving. “I’ll be back, silly,” I said when she threw her arms around me, and I awkwardly stood there, patting her on the back. She told me she loved me at least a dozen times, to stay safe, call or text every day.

The sun casts its soft, golden streaks through the clouds. The peachy horizon blends into the violet hues of the night sky. Everywhere I look, I notice colors, and I imagine mixing the right paints to capture them on canvas. It’s an odd thing to think about, especially since I haven’t picked up a brush since high school.

Casper approaches, a half-eaten breakfast sandwich in one hand, a bag full of more food in another. He offers me the bag. “Hungry?”

“No, thanks.” Nerves are getting to me; I couldn’t eat if I tried.

He sits in the row of seats next to where I’m standing. “I need to tell you something,” he says, cautiously glancing my way. “When I told your dad about this, he wasn’t exactly happy.”

Considering the man went to every effort to keep me separated from the family, I’m not surprised.

“He also told me I’m off the job.”

What?

I mean, I wasn’t thrilled about being stalked, but I don’t want to cause any rifts either.

“And you’re taking me to London anyway? Why?”

“Hell if I know. Suppose I have a death wish.” He winks as he bites into his egg sandwich. Something in my gut tells me it’s not far from the truth.

I sit in the seat beside him. This close to Casper, I smell the crispness of his soap mixed in with his own masculine scent, and I want to curl into his chest.

I shake away the feeling. “Thank you for taking me.”

He looks at me, his green eyes blazing. For a brief moment, I get the impression the attraction is mutual. Then he ruins whatever connection I thought I sensed by saying, “Eh, I have nothing better to do anyway.”

Ice water drowns the flame burning inside me. Casper is doing me a favor. Stop turning it into something it’s not. This is about finding your siblings—that’s it!

I drum my fingers along the edge of the chair, feeling the need to make conversation to distract myself. “So, ah, what would you be doing if you weren’t taking me to London?”

Unlike me, it’s obvious this guy hasn’t been stuck in classrooms and office buildings or cooped up working in a café. He looks primed for the outdoors, for adventure, or something more exciting than an ordinary, routine life. The tattoos peeking out from beneath the sleeves of his gray T-shirt are made up of abstracts and foreign languages, one I recognize as Latin, but I don’t know the meaning. Everything about him is so damn interesting. It makes me wonder what he thinks while he watches me. Is my life painfully boring? Sometimes it feels that way while living it.

Swallowing his food, he says, “Gambling. There’s a poker tournament in Monaco I’ve been eyeing. I’ll probably head there next.”

“You’re a professional poker player?”

“Along with odd jobs here and there.”

Odd jobs—like me. Doesn’t get any odder than this.

“Is there anything else you plan to do? I mean, careerwise.”

He grins, and I catch the way he subtly shakes his head. Not as an answer, but as if he can’t believe I’d ask the question in the first place.

“Did I say something wrong?”

“It just sounds like you’re implying there’s something else I should be doing.”

Oh, crap. I’ve insulted him. “I didn’t mean—”

“Don’t worry about it. My dad loves pointing it out, too. But I like this way of living. I work when I want, the money’s decent, I don’t stay in one place for very long, and it’s fun, most of the time.”

My nose twitches, and he laughs.

“You don’t approve?”

“It’s not that…it’s just, I would freak out if I didn’t know where my next paycheck was coming from.”

“Stability isn’t for everyone.” He shrugs. “I don’t like being tied down.”

I get a sense of what he means. “You’re a free spirit.”

“That’s a romantic way of describing it.” He crinkles the sandwich wrapper into a ball, then tosses it into the paper bag. “I tried it the other way, went to school for years, and worked my ass off to get a degree I’m not even using.”

“What degree?” I ask curiously.

“Law.”

He’s a lawyer? Why would he go through all that trouble just to walk away? Accounting isn’t all that interesting, but there’s no way I’m not putting my degree to good use. The Oltek job would’ve fast-tracked me into a higher position, no internships or climbing the ladder, but I’ll eventually get there on my own. No strings attached.

After London.

After whatever insane adventure plays out.

Real-world adult life can be saved for later.

“How long do you plan to stick around?” I ask Casper offhandedly. He looks at me like he doesn’t understand. “I mean, since you’re no longer getting paid by my father. Suicidal tendencies can’t be that profitable these days.”

He grins, just a slight curve of his lips, then it disappears. “I’ll make sure you find your brother and sister. After that, I’ll go my own way.”

A wave of disappointment hits unexpectedly. Just like that day on the beach when he disappeared, only now it’s ten times harder. The idea of never seeing Casper again makes me sad, more than I’d like to admit. This is so outside of my character, being this into him. I usually go for guys like Ethan—guys who have their shit together. Guys with goals and a five-year plan. Guys who know what country they’ll be in next week. Casper says he’ll probably go to Monaco next, not giving it any more importance than what he’s eating for lunch.

“Don’t worry,” he says, noticing my contemplative stare. “Leo grew up in this life, and he’s better at it than me. He’ll make sure you stay safe.”

Leo. My brother.

Just hearing his name feels like a dream.

The speakers blare; a muffled voice announces the boarding call. Casper stands, slinging his backpack over one shoulder. “Ready?”

As I’ll ever be.

I take another look out the window. The sky is now a dusty pink, fusing into a bright yellow. Morning breaking through the night. A sense of hope is breaking through the dark in those beautiful shards of light.

Goodbye, Florida. Wish me luck.

Several minutes later, we find our seats, and Casper tucks our carry-on bags into the overhead bin. A flight attendant goes over safety procedures as the plane gears up for takeoff. There’s a reminder to turn off all electronic devices just as my cell vibrates in the pocket of my jeans. A text message.

I slide it out, planning to quickly reply to the text, then switch it to airplane mode. My heart stops.

There’s nowhere you can go.

What the?

No.

I zoom in on the number—I don’t recognize it. My heart drums louder as I stare at that one short sentence. I imagine everything left unsaid. Nowhere I can go…where I can’t be found.

Casper notices how still I’ve become. “You okay?”

I show him my phone.

His eyes twist around the words, anger taking hold of his face. He grabs it from me and calls the unknown number. A series of beeps sound from the other end. Disconnected. Of course.

He ends the call and punches the seat in front of him. “Goddammit,” he says, his voice loud with rage.

The guy in the seat in front of him turns around, glaring. “What the hell, man?”

“Sorry,” Casper mumbles.

“You told me this would happen. You said it happened to the other victims…that he…” I choke on the words, barely able to get it out. The Serra killer likes to terrorize their victims before killing them. “That he toyed with them…right before. That’s what you said, right?”

Casper sighs. “Yeah. It’s part of his MO.”

Well, it’s working.

I’m officially terrified.

“The killer knows,” I say in a small voice. “He knows I’m going to London.”

“Or he just knows you’re leaving.”

We both knew that wasn’t true.

“Let’s not kid ourselves.” My voice is surprisingly calm. My movements are robotic as I slowly lower my hand to my lap, the cellphone still lit up in it. “If they know I’m leaving, they know where I’m going.”

Casper smooths his gravelly voice. “This doesn’t change anything.”

“It changes everything. There’s no point in even going anymore.”

But it’s too late; the plane is already taking off. Looks like I’m going to London just to pack up and leave again.

“Don’t say that. This should make you want to go there even more.”

It doesn’t though.

I made a mistake. A terrible mistake. Choosing to pick up and hop on a plane without considering the consequences, or how it would affect my brother and sister’s lives—what was I thinking? If I wasn’t on a plane full of people, I’d probably cry. And I never cry.

Casper turns to face me. I look straight ahead, squeezing the arms of my chair, too afraid of whatever hope he’s offering to look at him.

“We stick to the plan. Go to London, find Leo and Viv. It’s a good plan.”

It’s a careless, selfish plan.

“I won’t risk their lives, too,” I whisper, trying to keep the conversation quiet. Thankfully the cabin isn’t full; only Casper and I share the row. “It’s not their fault I’ve been targeted as the next victim.”

“Leo and Viv get it,” he argues. “This life is new to you, but not to them. And they aren’t hiding. Hell, Leo even changed his last name back to Serra as soon as he turned eighteen. I don’t know if he’s rebelling against your dad, or if he’s simply making a statement to the killer—but he refuses to live in fear.”

Brave. My brother sounds very brave.

Then again, he’s had years to adjust. I’ve had days.

“That’s not the point.” I shake my head, standing my ground. “I can’t bring them into this just because they’re not afraid.”

“Mila, please look at me.”

I press my lips together, bracing myself, then slowly turn to meet his gaze. His face is inches from mine, and I lose my ability to breathe all over again. There’s so much strength there, strength I wish I had for myself.

“Let’s table this for now,” he says, tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear. His fingertips graze the side of my cheek, and I tremble inside. “We’ll figure it out when we land. Deal?”

There’s nothing left to figure out, but I agree anyway. “Deal.”

Right now, I’m pretty sure I’d agree to anything he asked if it saves me from having to think about murderers and my potential death.

“Try and get some sleep,” he suggests. “It’s a long flight.”

Sleep. Hmm. I haven’t been able to get much over the last few days. It’s actually not a bad idea. Despite the discomfort of the tightly confined airplane seat, there’s bigger comfort in knowing I’m surrounded by people, and Casper is at my side, and an air marshal somewhere aboard if I’m lucky. I tuck a travel pillow between my neck and the window, closing my eyes.