Page 113 of Cross Ice

You don’t have to.

Danny

I’m already leaving. I’ll be there in twenty.

I set my phone down and took in my apartment. This was supposed to be my safe space. The one place where I could exist without being watched, without being recognized, without being Nicolás Briggs’s boyfriend.

But they knew where I lived now. The blog post had made sure of that. And if one person could find me at the grocery store, others could too. It was only a matter of time before someone showed up at my building, or waited outside, or⁠—

My phone buzzed again. Nico.

Nico

I’m free for a few minutes. Want me to call?

My hands were still shaking. My voice would give me away immediately. Nico would hear the panic in it, and then he’d want to know what had happened. I’d have to explain the blog post, the grocery store, and the woman who’d followed me. I couldn’t do that right now. Not over the phone. Not when I could barely hold it together.

Evan

Can’t talk right now. Maybe later?

Nico

Everything okay?

Evan

Yeah. Fine.

I put my phone face down on the coffee table and waited for Danny.

Danny arrived with Starbucks and a furrowed brow that meant he was assessing how worried to be.

“You look terrible,” he said, pressing a latte into my hands.

“Thanks.”

“Tell me what happened.”

So I did. The blog post with my routine documented in detail. The woman at the grocery store. The way she’d followed me to my car, asking for my number, wanting me to meet her son.

“She was nice,” I said. “That’s the thing. She was just a mom who wanted to do something good for her kid. And I still panicked.”

Danny was quiet for a moment. “That blog post. Did it give your address?”

“Not explicitly. But the building is visible in the photos. Anyone familiar with the area could figure it out.”

“Jesus, Evan.”

“Yeah.”

He opened a bakery bag and passed me a brownie wrapped in a napkin. I picked at it without eating.

“You need to tell Nico,” Danny said.

“Tell him what? That someone was nice to me at the grocery store and I ran away?”

“Tell him that a website published details about where you live and what your daily routine is. That you’re being followed and photographed and documented. Tell him you’re not okay.”