“Thanks,” Ava says finally.
“You can pay me back by not murdering me in my sleep.”
To your surprise, she laughs. It is small and sudden, like a door cracking open in a dark house.
“I’m too tired to murder anybody,” she says.
“That’s what murderers say.”
The smile stays on her mouth a second longer than she meant to let it. Then it fades, replaced by the same tension you saw under the streetlight.
You sit across from her. “You said you got robbed. Was it random?”
Her eyes flick to yours and then away. “Not exactly.”
“Boyfriend?”
“No.”
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