I sat on the floor with my knees pulled to my chest, my arms wrapped loosely around my shins, and watched the little angel on the couch in front of me sleep. Her mouth was open, her lids fluttered with the movement of her eyes, and the soft snores flowed like my favorite song.

“It’s creepy to watch people sleep…even little people,” my best friend whispered from behind me on her way to the kitchen.

Stevie—apparently, “Stephanie” wasn’t cool enough when she was younger—had let me crash at her place until I could find somewhere else to go. It’d been three weeks, and I wasn’t sure how much longer I had before she would politely ask me to leave. It wasn’t that she didn’t have a desire to help, but having four people live in her tiny, one-bedroom, studio apartment proved to be too much. With nowhere to put my things, we lived out of a suitcase in the living room, and the couch and floor had become our beds. Most mornings, I was left to brush my teeth in the kitchen sink while bouncing on the balls of my feet to keep from peeing on myself before I could gain access to the toilet. If it were only her living here, I’m sure there wouldn’t have been a problem. But she shared the space with her boyfriend, Derek—it was actually his apartment—and he was tired of having guests in his home.

I wiped my eyes and shuffled my feet toward the kitchen. Stevie was in the middle of pouring a cup of coffee while thumbing through the notifications on her phone. It was her regular morning routine. It was amazing how well you knew someone after hijacking their living quarters for less than a month. We’d met in high school and became fast friends. We’d even enrolled in the local community college together and signed up for the same classes. I was the quiet one, while Stevie was wildly animated. Seriously, that girl never met a stranger. When I’d fallen pregnant, she was the only one who didn’t disown me.

“What would happen if a cop asked me to prove that Aria is mine?” I climbed onto the small space on the counter next to the fridge. “Like how would I prove that?”

Her gaze slowly shifted from her phone to my face, the bewilderment was obvious. “I’m no mother or anything, but back in my day, they had these fancy pieces of paper with various information on it…such as mother’s name. I’m pretty sure that would suffice in the unlikely chance a cop would ask you to show proof.”

I waved her sarcasm off. “Seriously, Stevie. What if I’m at the store and someone thinks she’s not mine? It’s not like I carry her birth certificate with me. Would they follow me home so I could get it? Would they take her and not give her back until I got it? What would happen?”

“I think the more important question is…why are you even asking this?”

“She looks nothing like me.”

Stevie stared at me with wide, unblinking eyes, her mouth hung open. “You’re kidding, right? She looks just like you.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Then who does she resemble? Certainly not her father. So who?”

I shrugged, not having a clue whose features Aria had gotten. “You know how you can look at a kid and be like, ‘I know who your mom is’? I just don’t feel like people say that when they see us together.”

“Honey, no one says that. We may think it, but unless we know the person, we keep our thoughts to ourselves. Not to mention, we don’t ever call the cops unless the little kid is screaming or mouthing ‘help me.’” She dramatically acted out the last part, which made me laugh and forget all about my irrational fear—for the time being.

“Whatever. What’s new in the world of bookface?”

Stevie was my source for all the latest gossip. It was almost unheard of for someone not to own a smartphone in this day and age, but here I was, twenty-two, and the not-so-proud owner of a prepaid flip phone. Texting was a drawn-out affair due to how long it took, and forget about checking email or keeping up with social media—not that I really had a reason to have an account. It wasn’t like I had friends outside of Stevie and the group she hung out with.

She unlocked her phone and began to scroll—exactly what she had been doing before my completely valid question sidetracked her. “Jade…” she tsked and shook her head without glancing at me. “If you keep calling it that, people will start to take you seriously. But in the world of Facebook, there’s some guy looking for a roommate.”

I hated it when she paraphrased. “What’s the big deal about that?”

“He’s only seeking a female roommate. Says he’s divorced and lonely. He sounds like a creep. Not to mention, there’s no picture attached to his profile, and anytime he’s been asked about it, he just comments and says they’re not what he’s looking for. I bet he’s a serial killer or something.”

“Or horribly hideous and can’t get laid. Where did you say he lives?”

“The Gulf Coast. Looks like it’s straight across the state. Says he has a house on the beach that’s paid for, so either he’s a millionaire, or it’s a scam. My money’s on scam. Although, you have a good point…he could be like that gross slug creature on Star Wars.”

I shivered at that mental picture. A boy I’d gone to middle school with had some disgusting fascination with Princess Leia and Jabba the Hutt. Puberty did weird things to boys. “Does it say how old he is?”

She scrolled with her thumb, her dark eyebrows knitted together in concentration. “No, just a generalization. It’s listed as twenty-five to thirty-two.” Her top lip curled like she’d just tasted something putrid. “I bet he’s old, fat, and gross. Eww—” She gagged dramatically. “He’s probably one of those sick fucks who likes to stick his wrinkled dick in young pussy.”

I leaned to the side, checking on Aria. She was still too young to understand what Stevie was saying, but regardless, she didn’t need to hear it. With her curious nature, she’d ask someone what it meant, and there was no way I’d be able to explain that. If the cops weren’t called for her not looking like me, they’d definitely be called for a toddler going around talking like Stevie.

“Here, check it out for yourself. I have to go get dressed for class.” She handed me her phone before taking her coffee and leaving the room.

The apartment was small, consisting of a living room that fit one couch and a TV that had to be mounted on the wall to conserve space, a kitchen only two adults could comfortably fit in, a tiny corner big enough for one table with four chairs crammed around the top, and a bedroom. Even the bathroom wasn’t accessible from the rest of the place, proving this apartment was not meant for entertaining guests.

I checked on Aria again before reading the ad that had been shared on someone’s wall. It was from a guy named Cash Nickelson—probably a fake name—who claimed to live on Geneva Key, an island off the Gulf Coast of Florida near Sarasota. I’d heard of the town, but had never been there before. From what I’d been told, it was a ritzy place, full of rich people with more money than God. However, there wasn’t an address or picture, so he could’ve very well been lying about the whole thing. Stevie was right—this had to be a scam, a way to take advantage of women or find his next victim.

Just before locking the phone, an idea struck. So I jotted down his name, and any other information I’d been able to gather from the ad and comments attached, and waited for Stevie to leave for school.

If he could play games, then so could I.

It wasn’t like I had anything else going on. There was only so much I could do with a two-year-old. I was pretty sure I’d crossed over into insanity about five episodes of Blue’s Clues ago. So if this Cash Nickelson character was in fact crazy and believed women were easy targets, he’d clearly never met a mother of a toddler.

As soon as the front door closed behind my best friend, I grabbed the laptop off the kitchen table. I couldn’t live with Stevie and Derek forever, but in order to move out, I needed a paycheck. And I couldn’t get one of those without childcare. Knowing I had no connection to the outside world with my outdated cell, Stevie was nice enough to let me use her computer to apply for jobs—which I had done. Every day for the last three weeks since I’d moved out of my mom’s house. But today, I decided I needed a break from reality, and chose to focus on this scandal instead of my own.

I searched his name in the area he claimed the house was in, but I came up empty-handed. I even tried to find a profile for him on every social media site I could think of—including MySpace—but he didn’t appear to exist. My stalking abilities weren’t the best, so my last-ditch effort to learn something about him was to look up property records. Just to be thorough, I included every county in a fifty-mile radius of Geneva Key, but I couldn’t find a single deed or tax record with his name on it. Granted, I didn’t have any social media accounts, and if anyone tried to find property information with my name on it, they’d come up empty, as well. The difference was…I wasn’t seeking a roommate for a house I claimed to own.

Anytime someone questioned him about personal information—otherwise known as research to make sure he wasn’t on America’s Most Wanted list—he either dismissed the person or responded by saying they could fill out a request as long as they were serious about it.

Figuring I had nothing better to do with my time, I decided to complete the inquiry, for nothing more than to catch a killer before bodies started washing ashore along the Gulf Coast. What I found most odd was his unusual request for anyone with a picture attached to their email account, to remove it before submitting their response.

He only asked for my name and the age range I fell into, nothing specific. There was a place to add where I currently lived, and a box to list my reasons for seeking a room to rent. Other than my email address, he asked for no other way to reach me. For the most part, it looked legit—other than the complete anonymity on his part.

In all honesty, I didn’t expect to hear anything back, but that hadn’t stopped me from checking my email incessantly throughout the day. After Stevie and Derek headed off to bed for the night, I refreshed the page one last time before giving up, and to my surprise, I had a new email from Roommates Anonymous.

Dear Jade, thank you for your recent inquiry submission on my post. Let me start out by saying I’m only looking for people who are serious about moving in. I have to be honest and tell you I’ve received hundreds of emails from people all over the country, some legitimately looking for a room to rent, but most have been curious folks trying to get information on me. It’s not that I am keeping my identity a secret for malicious reasons, and once I explain, I hope you can understand my logic.

I’m not interested in a relationship, so therefore, I don’t care what you look like, hence the no-photo request. If you’re in dire need of a room, this probably won’t work out for you. As much as I would like to have the spare room filled tomorrow, I feel it’s necessary to get acquainted with one another a little first, so that when you do move in, we won’t feel like complete strangers. Before a final decision is made on either of our parts, you will have all the information about me you’ll need in order to make a sound assessment as to whether or not this is the right move for you.

I am a thirty-year-old single man who works a lot. You won’t see me Monday through Friday, but I will be around on the weekends. I don’t currently know anyone in the area, as I’ve recently moved here after my divorce, and I’m not home enough to meet many people. The house is small, three bedrooms, but plenty of space, so you won’t feel like we’re living on top of each other, and it’s right on the beach. It’s a small community (I’m sure you’ve probably already done your research on Geneva Key) so almost everything is within walking distance or a short bike ride away. I have cable and internet, both of which you are free to use as you’d like, and obviously utilities. Like I said in the ad, rent can be negotiated. There won’t be a lease, so you don’t have to worry about that, but since I will be gone a lot, leaving my home vulnerable to someone I’m not familiar with, I will ask for permission to run a full background check and screening. Now would be the time to make me aware of anything I might find.

If you’re still interested in taking the next step, please reply to this email. If not, thank you for your request, and good luck on the search for finding the perfect roommate.

Best of luck,

Cash N.

I’d expected the hairs on the back of my neck to stand on end, warning me of danger ahead, but I didn’t get that feeling. Instead, I sensed sincerity. Then again, “Oh, Johnny killed ten people? Yeah, I always thought he was weird and totally capable of murder,” said no one…ever. I was pretty sure sincerity was what kept these guys with stockpiles of victims.

I had no plans to move in with the guy—there was no way I’d put my daughter in that situation—but that didn’t stop me from responding, if for no other reason than to learn more about this mystery that had blown up and made its way to Stevie’s Facebook wall.

Unsure of what kind of response he was looking for, I simply said I was still interested in finding out if we’d make a good team, and signed it with, “Looking forward to hearing from you.” Then I closed the lid of the laptop, set it aside, and curled up with my blanket on the pallet I’d made on the floor next to where Aria slept peacefully on the couch.

* * *

To my surprise, I had an email waiting for me the next morning. It had come in minutes after I’d sent my response last night, and I kicked myself for not waiting up for it. Having this to entertain me could’ve saved me from an hour of tossing and turning on folded blankets that did nothing to soften the hard floor beneath me.

It’s so great to hear back from you, Jade. I’ve created a form for you to complete. If you wouldn’t mind answering the few questions I’ve laid out and send it back, we can get started on moving this process forward. Again, I hope you can understand my need for things to happen this way. As I’m sure you might have figured out, my ad has been somewhat elevated, and I would really like to find someone who truly wants this opportunity. Wading through the requests has been a challenge, so I ask that if you’re not serious, please end it now.

Thank you,

Cash N.

I clicked the link he provided and pounded away on the keyboard.

Full Name: Jade Duran Robertson

Email: [email protected]gmail.com

Age: 22

When I got to the question about pets, I debated. It wasn’t ideal to refer to my daughter as an animal, but considering I didn’t plan to ever live with him, he’d never be aware that Aria, the two-year-old “small breed,” was in fact a human and not a dog.

I laughed at myself and continued with the form.

Price Point for Rent

He’d given three options: two hundred to four hundred, four hundred to six hundred, and six hundred to eight hundred. Beneath those, there was a spot for “other” and a blank to fill in my own answer. I chose the first one. It wasn’t like I could’ve afforded any of the options I had, but I figured “zero to fifty” would conclude this game, and if I were honest, I was actually having fun with this.

Job: Nanny

It didn’t matter that it was for my own kid.

Then came the actual questions, which were different from the ones above that read more like an application for a loan. He asked if I drove, if I owned a car. If I would have a problem being alone in his house for extended periods of time—to which I answered no. I thought it was an odd thing to ask, but then again, there were probably people who would’ve felt uncomfortable staying by themselves in a stranger’s house. Without ever having been in that type of situation, I gave him the most honest answer I could. After that, he went on to ask about family, if I was in a relationship, and if I could foresee the possibility of having overnight guests often.

The only reason he’d need information about my relationships with others was to find out how long I could go missing before anyone came looking for me. But instead of deleting the form and any communication with this guy, I lied…through my teeth. I told him I was very close with my family and even had relatives in his area, which was why I’d contacted him in the first place. The dating question made me hesitate. I assumed if I said I was in a relationship, it’d look odd that I would be interested in living with a guy. I also assumed it’d be strange for me to move away from a boyfriend, and too coincidental if he lived on Geneva Key. So I went with simple and said I’d recently split with my ex, hoping that would give us something in common.

Spinning tales and half-truths could’ve almost been a full-time job. But the hardest part would be remembering everything I’d told him. Nothing turns a face redder than being caught in a lie.

I hit send and then quickly put the computer away to keep me from another day of obsessing over my inbox. Instead, I took Aria to the local park after her nap. It was obvious Derek had tired of us being there, cramped around the table every night for dinner. So, to give them some alone time, I stayed out later than usual and hit the dollar menu at a drive-through.

By the time I made it back, Stevie was in the kitchen cleaning up dinner dishes, and Derek was on the couch. He craned his head, took one look at me, and then headed off to their room. I couldn’t help but grow agitated, realizing Aria and I would have to skip another shower. I’d learned very quickly how to bathe myself in the kitchen sink, but Aria still had trouble getting through it without making a mess.

“You were out late,” Stevie said as she put the last dish away.

“Yeah…Aria needed a break from the TV, and while I was out, I grabbed a few numbers to call off the message board at the college.” I conveniently left off the part about how I’d already called them and got turned down as soon as I mentioned having a kid.

“It took you all day to get numbers?”

“No. I was just trying to give you and Derek some time together without us being in your way. I’m sure this hasn’t been easy on you. Believe me, I’m looking for another solution.”

“We’re managing just fine. Don’t rush out before you’re ready.”

“Derek hates us being here.”

“He’ll get over it.” She waved the dishrag in my face. “He’s aware of how hard it is—he was raised by a young, single mom. So he’s more understanding than he acts. Don’t let it get to you. First, you need to find a job. You won’t be able to go anywhere without one of those.”

“I’m trying. I’ve applied at almost every daycare in town, but it’s hard without any certification or degree. And from what they all charge to actually watch Aria for me while I work somewhere else, I’d have to sign over my entire paycheck, plus some. It’s insane how much childcare costs. It baffles me how single mothers without family can afford to work.”

“You’ll get through this. You always land on your feet, and this will be no different. My only concern is that you’ll worry too much about cramping our style and rush into something, only to find yourself in a worse situation.” She raised one eyebrow to punctuate her meaning, but she didn’t need to do that, I understood all too well. That was the last thing I wanted to happen.

I had no desire to crawl back to my mom’s house for many reasons, but I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about it. Stevie could tell me until she was blue in the face that I hadn’t overstayed my welcome, though I’d never believe her. The walls were thin, making it easy to overhear some of the conversations they’d had behind their closed door at night when they thought I was asleep. In fact, the walls were so thin, there was no doubt Stevie and Derek weren’t having sex—and he’d pointed that out to her in these hushed, late-night discussions. But I couldn’t exactly tell her that I’d been privy to that information.

“Thanks, Stevie.” I gave her a hug before she headed back to her room.

By the time I finished bathing Aria and wiping myself down, it was after ten. I’d gotten her settled on the couch with cartoons on the TV, and as soon as I heard the first note of her own personal lullaby, I grabbed the computer.

My heart skipped a few beats at the sight of another email. Except this time, rather than it coming from Roommates Anonymous, the sender was Cassius Nicholson.