He folded his arms and leaned back against the counter behind him. “No problem at all. I hope it helped.”
“It did.” Just knowing that there was one nice person in this apartment meant a lot to me. More than he probably knew.
“Tomorrow will be better,” Miller said.
“Will it?” I wasn’t so sure.
“At least Isabella and Mrs. Pruitt won’t be here. You’ll have some time to get to know your father.”
That wasn’t time that I wanted. But instead of saying that, I just nodded.
“It’s getting late. I should head to bed.”
“Okay.” My voice sounded so small. I was about to be alone in this horrible house. A shiver ran down my spine.
He walked over to the door but then stopped and turned around. “For the record, a guy who doesn’t stick up for you isn’t someone who’s worth your time.”
I felt frozen under his gaze.
“Goodnight, Brooklyn.”
“Goodnight, Miller.” His last name felt weird on my tongue. Even though it seemed like he was on my side, the use of his last name was like a line in the sand. He was hired to keep Mr. Pruitt’s secrets. And I knew that meant he’d keep them from me too.
For a while I just sat there. Going to my room meant another sleepless night staring at the ceiling. But when the clock ticked closer to midnight, I finally got up. I made my way through the creepy house and up the stairs. I looked right at the top of the stairs, down the hallway where the real family slept. Was Mr. Pruitt awake right now? Was he wondering how the hell he wound up in this situation too?
He’d taken my side at dinner. I should have felt something. He’d protected me like a father should. But I just felt confused. He had a wife and daughter that loved him. Why would he defend a girl who didn’t?
I retreated down my hall and stopped at the locked door. I looked over my shoulder to make sure no one was watching, and then tried to open it. But it was locked just like the front door. I turned my head and pressed my ear up against the wood. I don’t know what I was expecting to hear. But only silence greeted me, just like the locked room at Mr. Pruitt’s other apartment. I took a step back and stared at the handle. There were secrets in there. Secrets that Miller was keeping for Mr. Pruitt. Secrets that Isabella and Mrs. Pruitt probably knew. What horrible things did he do that made him pay his staff exorbitant salaries?
I heard the creak of a door and threw my hand over my mouth before I could scream. Instead of looking behind me to see where the noise was coming from, I ran toward my bedroom. I threw the door closed and turned the lock on the doorknob. My heart was racing so quickly that for a second I thought the noise outside my bedroom was my heart thudding against my chest. But then there was a very audible squeak of a floorboard right outside my door.
I took a step back and stared at the crack between the bottom of the door and the hardwoods. There was definitely a shadow in the middle of it, blocking the light. For a few seconds everything was still. I couldn’t even hear any breathing besides my own.
And then there was another squeak of the floorboards, and the shadow beneath the door disappeared.
I knew it was a person. Every logical conclusion pointed to that. Someone had heard me upstairs and come to see what I was up to. And then they’d walked away when they realized everything was fine.
But if that was true…why did it feel like someone was watching me right now? I turned around and looked at my room. Empty except for me. But I felt it. I folded my arms across my chest to help stop the chill running through my bones. It was almost as if the shadow had come under the door and into my room. Which made no sense. Neither did the fact that it seriously felt like it just dropped ten degrees. I swallowed hard.
Earlier tonight I’d been scared to be all alone. Now I was worried that I wasn’t.
Chapter 11
Saturday
I didn’t sleep at all. I’d tossed and turned and dreamed of ghosts for the first time since I was a child. I kept my eyes closed shut all night, wishing that sleep would come. But all I could see was the shadow under the door as it seeped into my room.
A loud bang made my eyes fly open. I screamed at the top of my lungs when I saw a man hunched over in my closet.
He turned around, holding a dress in his hand. “Calm yourself.”
“What? Who…what are you doing in my room?” I’d locked the door. I was sure of it because I was so freaked out last night. I pulled the comforter up to my chest even though I wasn’t wearing anything even remotely revealing.
“You’re going to give yourself premature wrinkles,” he said as he slipped the dress on a hanger.
“Who the hell are you?”
He smiled, not at all alarmed by my tone. “Justin. I’m Diane’s assistant.”
“And who’s Diane?”
“Your stylist. You met her yesterday. You know…big glasses, crazy hair, about yay tall.” He held his hand out to the side to show her height.
I just stared at him. “How did you even get in?”
“The door was unlocked.”
“No it wasn’t.”
“Um…yes it was.” He slid another dress on a hanger. “Would you prefer if I organize by color or are you more of a hang-all-the-pants-together kind of girl?”
“I’ve never even hung up a pair of pants.”
“Interesting. It’s best if we just do it my way then.” He turned back to the closet.
For a few seconds I just stared at the back of his head. The morning had just started and I already felt completely out of my element. I climbed out of bed and opened one of my moving boxes. Before I could pull on some of my old clothes, Justin stopped me.
“Absolutely not. Try this.” He tossed me a pair of dark washed jeans and a sweater that would definitely show off my midriff.
“I don’t think this is very…me.”
“Nonsense. Diane wouldn’t have picked it out for you if it wouldn’t look good on your figure. Trust me. Some of the celebs she dresses would die for that outfit, but if they can’t pull it off, Diane won’t send it to them.”