41
Hilary
I parked my car in the studio’s parking lot, checked the mirrors, and looked out for any sign of Mike, or anyone else who could rob me—a habit I had developed since Mike almost killed me in this same spot. When everything looked okay, I exited my car and walked to the studio’s door, my chin high, my eyes half-closed, enjoying the warmth of the sun on my skin. It was not even nine in the morning on a Monday, and the sun wasn’t already hot. It made me wish for a day on the beach. Or poolside.
I had just stepped inside and greeted Sonya when my phone rang.
I glanced at the screen and frowned. “Hi, Evie. How are you?” I asked, concerned. She rarely called me. I heard a gasp and a sob and stopped dead in my tracks. “Evie? Talk to me.” The hallway leading to the main studio floor a
