Giselle didn’t linger in the hallway.
The moment Enrique disappeared through the door, she turned and walked, her steps quick and purposeful, as if the carpet beneath her feet might swallow her if she hesitated. The door clicked shut behind her, sealing her into silence that rang louder than the noise outside ever had.
The room was dim, warm, impersonal in a way hotels often were—meant for passing through, never for staying. She dropped her purse near the bed and went straight for the bathroom, not trusting herself to think until hot water was pouring over her skin.
She locked the door. Then she leaned forward, her palms braced on the counter, with her head bowed. Only then did her breath finally shudder out of her.
You’re safe, she told herself. For now.
She stripped quickly, as if t
