She should have known things were too good to be true. Not only had she been developing her business as an independent journalism tutor, but it was doing so well that she was able to put down a deposit on her own apartment. With a little help from her brother, of course.
Evie Black had awoken that morning with the sun pouring through her east-facing window. She nursed her coffee, keeping it close to her lips to let it warm her face. She stared beyond the glass at San Francisco, pondering how perfectly content she was to live here. Things had gotten rough over the years, and after a long stint of trying life in New York City—not to mention a short trip with a traveling circus, which she now looked back at with a cringeworthy amount of ridiculousness—she had finally made it back to this fine city. Where her brother lived. A place she could call home.
But her good spirit had met its premature end right then. It was only seconds after, when she sat at her desk (which doubled as a dining table) and opened up her MacBook Pro. Evie typed in her password and began as she always did, sipping on the last few drops of coffee while she perused the morning news. It was usually full of fluff pieces, the following of celebrities and other such trivial nonsense. She had never expected to see that.
Evie dropped her mug. It spilled out the remains of her morning brew. She swiped it to one side and ignored the smash as it hit the tiled floor, her eyes focused on this one thing alone. It was an article from an old friend, and it detailed the potential return of the sickest man she’d ever met.
The Lullaby Killer.
Although she knew the truth about Marvin Wendell’s demise, Evie wasn’t able to take any chances. The last time she’d heard from him, someone very dear to her had been threatened. Was he really back? If so, how? These, along with many other questions, raced through her already scattered mind. They burned a hole big enough for distinct primal fear to ooze in and drown her insides. She went cold as she questioned whether this was the right thing to do. Was her initial instinct the best one? Was this really an option?
Evie stared at the screen, her pulse racing while she made up her mind. Perhaps she should do something about this, even if it was just on the defensive. But was she even allowed to do this? Legally speaking, of course. Probably not, but she doubted that would stop her.
It rarely did.