Chapter 8
Piper
A s the hours crawl by after my call to Lena ends, I do everything humanly possible not to think about the envelopes stacked in the bottom drawer of my desk. I put on loud music and clean my apartment. When I’m done with that, I settle at my desk and send out even more applications.
Then I search for Daniel online. Thanks to Georgetown’s student network, it’s not hard to find he’s from a small town in the midwest—Galena, to be exact.
After getting this far in my search, it doesn’t take long to find his new job which, indeed, is at a fastfood chain.
It’s only the fifth I click on, and there it is, his scowling face on the staff roster.
What the hell possesses a man to go from Georgetown to milkshakes and fries? I don’t get it. Unless… no. No. Thinking that there’s more to it than a change of heart is ridiculous… isn’t it?
When I finally get up again, my body cracks and protests, my limbs creak like old floorboards. I’ve been so focused I haven’t realized it’s dark outside. After turning off my laptop, I go from room to room, switching the lights on.
But without anything to occupy me, the shadows feel like they’re clinging. They don’t need darkness—just my doubt. Not to mention the guilt gnawing at me. I don’t want to believe I’m the reason Daniel left, yet a voice in the back of my mind insists that I’m to blame.
Tiredness makes me yawn, and I’m tempted to lie down on my bed. But since Lena’s going to show up at any minute now, I decide on a shower instead.
I twist the shower handle all the way. The water slams down, boiling hot. Steam rises instantly, curling through the room like smoke from a fire no one will put out. I strip quickly, skin already prickling as I step under the spray.
The burn grounds me as I stand there, chest heaving as I let the water scald away the static crawling under my skin. I barely breathe. I just let the water roar until it’s louder than whatever I’m feeling.
I keep my hair dry since I don’t want to take the time to wash it. When I step out, steam curls around me like a second skin. It fills my lungs, coats the mirror, muffles the light. I dry off without thinking; towel to skin, breath held, muscles twitching.
There’s no shutting up my mind. Thoughts about Daniel play on a never-ending loop. I did what the stranger demanded, though. I played by his fucked up rules. I swallow thickly as I step into fresh panties and put on a clean bra.
If the note is true, I guess I saved Daniel’s life by rejecting him. That’s how I should look at it. So why do I feel so guilty? I didn’t do any of this. Reaching for my robe, I shrug it on. Once I’ve tied it, I glance toward the mirror and lift my hand to clear the fog.
Everything stops as I see the message scrawled across the mirror. The condensation is running, making the words pool like wounds.
You’re mine, Piper!
My breath catches, and I quickly back away, but the words follow. I blink, half expecting them to disappear, to unwrite themselves. They don’t. A sudden noise from the hallway makes me freeze. My brain scrambles to come up with a plan when the bathroom door swings open.
Lena bursts into the bathroom, startling me into a scream. “What the hell?” I slap my hand across my heart as though I can calm the organ. “What are you doing here?” I ask, my tone accusatory.
She furrows her brows in confusion. “What’s wrong with you, Pipes? You asked me to come over.”
Did I? Oh, right, yes, I did. Shit, that conversation feels like it happened in another life, not just hours ago.
“Bitch, why do you look like you’ve seen a ghost?” she asks, tilting her head to the side and narrowing her eyes.
In answer, I point a trembling hand toward the mirror, watching as she turns to look. The fog on the glass has lifted enough that I can see the way her confusion sharpens to concern the moment she notices the words.
“What is this?” she questions, somehow managing to keep her voice both soft and demanding.
“It’s… I think… It’s him, Lee,” I ramble, barely able to form coherent words.
“Him?”
When my mouth opens and closes several times with no other words following, she wraps an arm around me and guides me out of the room. She holds on tight, like she’s afraid I might break if she lets go.
Lena pulls me into the kitchen, sits me down at the table. I stay frozen, the chair cold beneath me, the air too dense to breathe. She moves with purpose—filling the kettle, grabbing mugs.
Each action is a small act of defiance against my chaos, grounding herself while she waits for answers.
I watch her, but I’m not really seeing, my mind still caught on the words, the awful clarity of them.
Steam hisses, the kettle whistles, and she pours, sliding a mug in front of me.
It’s only when she sits, when her eyes lock onto mine, that I finally find my voice.
“I didn’t imagine it,” I say, more to myself than to her. “The mirror. It was there.”
She nods. “And what was that? What the fuck is going on?” Her tone is gentle, but her gaze doesn’t waver.
I try to gather my thoughts, but they scatter, unruly, refusing to be tamed. “He’s everywhere,” I say, the words tearing out of me. “The envelopes. The puzzle pieces. And… oh, God, he made Daniel drop out. It’s all him. ”
Lena’s brow furrows, and she leans in closer. “Take a deep breath for me, Pipes, because you’re not making any fucking sense.”
“B-but at least he’s alive,” I whisper. “The note basically said I saved his life.” My voice breaks.
“Okay, start at the beginning.” She reaches across the table, her fingers a warm contrast to the chill that’s settled in me. Her hand stays on mine, thumb brushing lightly against my skin like she’s trying to coax coherence out of me.
I close my eyes, exhale slowly, and start to speak. The words flow from me with zero grace or logic. I explain about the stranger in the hallway at Velvet I tell her how I had received my first black envelope the morning we went to the cocktail bar, but that I’d forgotten everything about it until I received another one the next day.
“And what was in the envelopes?”
My breath saws out of me as I confess, “The first one just had a single puzzle piece. But the second one had a note saying ‘He’s alive because you listened.’”
Lena’s eyes widen. “So why do you think he made Daniel drop out?”
I roll my eyes, ready to state the obvious. “Because no one drops out of Georgetown like that. Daniel had one of the best internships nailed, and his grades were damn near p erfection.”
My voice grows hoarse as I continue to speak.
“I didn’t connect the incidents until today, when I heard people talking about him.” Pausing, I take a deep breath. “I think someone’s watching me. I don’t know why. But it’s not just a feeling anymore, Lee. The proof is on the fucking mirror… that guy has been in my apartment.”
I don’t look at Lena while I talk. I can’t. It’s like saying the words makes them more real, more unfixable. My voice shakes, but I don’t stop.
She doesn’t say anything for a long moment. Just studies me with a sharp, unsettling focus—like she’s trying to assess how far gone I really am. But I can see the moment it shifts. Her expression tightens, and her jaw sets.
When she finally speaks, her voice is low, edged in something hard. “Jesus, Pipes,” she breathes. “Why the fuck didn’t you tell me any of this sooner?”
“I only just put it all together,” I whisper. “It’s my fault Daniel had to leave.”
Her chair scrapes lightly as she shifts forward, narrowing the space between us. “No, it’s not,” she says firmly. “This is psychotic. This is…” she pauses, rakes a hand through her hair. “… this is next-level obsession.”
I nod once. “I thought about calling the police about the envelopes the other day.”
She blinks. “Why didn’t you?”
“What would I even say?” I ask, voice rough. “That someone has left me a puzzle piece every morning?”
“It’s more than that now,” she adds, concern lilting her tone. “You have a legitimate case, Pipes.”
She’s not wrong. A guy I barely know dropped out, and it somehow connects back to me because of a drink and a touch. And the message written on my mirror which is proof someone’s been in my home.
“I doubt they’d do more than tell me to change my locks and call a therapist.” I force a laugh, but it’s a hollow, scraped out sound.
Lena exhales through her nose. “Then let them tell you that,” she says, already reaching for her phone. “But you should at least try.”
I hesitate for a moment, but then I give in. “Put it on speaker.”
She dials, taking my hand while we wait. The hold music makes my skin crawl with how cheery it is. Seriously, how does happy music fit an emergency?
Finally, a calm voice answers. “D.C. Police Department. What’s your emergency?”
I start explaining about the puzzle pieces, but then, instead of telling her about my suspicion of Daniel being forced to drop out of Georgetown, I move on to the message on the mirror.
“Is there any sign of forced entry?” the dispatcher asks.
“ No.”
“Is anything missing?”
Even though she can’t see me, I shake my head. “No. Nothing’s been taken. But someone was here.”
The dispatcher sighs, and I know what’s coming before she can even get the words out. “Without evidence of a break-in or threat, we can’t open a case. But you may want to change your locks.”
I don’t answer. Lena reaches across and ends the call herself.
“Useless,” she mutters. “Why didn’t you tell them about Daniel?”
“Because…” I finally meet her gaze. “… it sounds insane. And… I don’t know, Lee. What if I’m wrong? What if it is nothing more than a fluke coincidence? Plus, it’s not like I can prove anything.”
She scoffs, but doesn’t push the issue, which I’m grateful for.