Caity Sherman stared at Lind, her face a mask of concern. “What is it?” she said. “What did you do?”
Lind stepped back, allowing her into the apartment. She paused in the foyer, looked in at the living room, the sunlight streaming in through the windows. “This place looks even better in the daytime,” she said.
Lind followed her gaze. It was impressive, the apartment, vast and open and stylish, though he’d never really noticed. It was far nicer than any home he’d lived in before the man—
Lind felt his throat constricting. He couldn’t think about before. The panic suffocated him. He ran his hands over his eyes. Leaned against a wall. The girl—Caity, her name was Caity—put her hand on his shoulder. “What’s going on?” she said. “Are you okay?”
Lind opened his eyes. “I’m okay,” he said. “I’m just—fine.”
Caity took his arm. Led him into the living room and sat him down on the couch. He heard her walk away, heard the tap running. Then she was back beside him, pressing a glass into his hand.
He drank. He was thirsty. Emptied the glass and she refilled it for him. Then she sat down beside him and studied his face. “What’s going on, Richard?”
Lind set the glass down on the coffee table. The man wouldn’t like this, he knew. The man was already displeased. He’d told Lind to wait for new instructions. He would be angry if he knew about the girl.
Except she kept calling him Richard, and that wasn’t his name. Maybe she didn’t know his real name. Maybe she didn’t know who he was. Every time Lind thought about it, his head hurt even more.
He knew he didn’t want to kill her. He didn’t want her to leave, even. Every time he looked at her, he felt the panic again, but he felt something else, too. Something better. Something like the clarity he’d felt at the Bellagio.
“You said you did something bad,” Caity said. “What was it?”
Lind hesitated. “I failed the assignment,” he said, finally.
“Wait, what assignment? Like, for school or something? What did you fail?”
He shook his head. Couldn’t tell her. If he told her, she would leave. He couldn’t let her. Caity put her hand on his. Squeezed. “I’m sure everything’s fine,” she said. “Everybody makes mistakes, Richard.”
Lind didn’t say anything. Didn’t bother to tell her his name wasn’t Richard. He sat and let her hold his hand, felt the warmth of her body close to his, and he closed his eyes and tried not to think about anything. Tried to keep the panic at bay.