I looked around the apartment as if I might suddenly discover hidden cameras or proof that the last year of my life had been staged somehow.
“You knew Emma before me?”
Sarah nodded weakly.
“She lived here first.”
I froze.
“She what?”
“In this apartment,” Sarah whispered. “Three years ago. Before you moved into the building.”
My stomach dropped.
I suddenly remembered something Emma once said when we toured my apartment together.
This building feels familiar somehow.