I feel a sudden flush of shame. She came to take back the things I stole from her. I can hardly accuse her of theft.
But then she didn’t just enter my apartment once, did she? I think of my broken security monitor. She’s been breaking in for four days. I’ve been missing emails; she’s been sending emails, moving things, taking things, and that message. God knows what else might have gone missing that I haven’t even noticed yet.
My mind scrambles for an explanation for all of this. She must have seen me tap in my iPhone passcode while I was sitting next to her in the waiting room and then she rifled through it, found my address, took my key, and emailed Lucy her lie. All while I fed her meter and auditioned. But why? Why use my phone that day, why take my key, why keep coming back? I have nothing to steal.
I take a breath and try to make sense of this tangle of facts. Emily didn’t disappear, she was coming here as Michelle. She must have hired Joanne to collect her things from me and play out those scenes. Perhaps she knew she couldn’t get past reception as both Michelle and herself. So she wrote those strange character breakdowns and scenes that Joanne showed me and texted Joanne instructions on where to go next in her place.
Emily came straight here after emailing Lucy from my phone. That’s why I couldn’t find her after my audition. She kept me busy looking for her while she searched my apartment. But what was she looking for on that first day?
Lucy’s voice breaks my concentration. “Do you recognize her?” she asks. “Michelle?”
I nod. “Yes. That’s—” I catch myself in a lie. I can’t tell Lucy this is Emily because she still thinks the woman she let in three nights ago to collect her keys is Emily. I could explain the whole story but I’m not sure that would do me any favors. She misreads my pained expression for concern and shoots out a hand for the desk phone.
“I’ll call the cops,” she offers, lifting the receiver, fingers poised to dial.
“No,” I blurt out. My mind is racing to put everything together without misstepping. Emily isn’t missing but she’s certainly pretending to be. The recording I listened to was real. Her emails were real. The Zoom call from Moon Finch seems to be the thing that set all of this in motion. Perhaps she really did mean to disappear that day but I had her wallet and keys. Perhaps that’s why she went into my bag. I should have dumped them back in there before I went into my audition, but for some reason I pocketed them. She couldn’t find them so, perhaps in the hope of getting them back later, she stole my apartment keycard.
But she wouldn’t have been able to take back her car keys and wallet from my apartment that first day because I was still at the casting. So she must have wanted to check out how possible it would be to gain access. And then the next day she wouldn’t have been able to take them back either as I took her things out with me all day. Emily knew if she wanted her things back she’d need to collect them from me directly, as I kept leaving the building with them on me. But that would have meant showing up here as Emily Bryant, so she sent Joanne instead. Emily Bryant is hiding.
After Joanne collected Emily’s stuff Emily would have realized I still hadn’t returned her rental document. I’d accidentally locked it in my car. So she had to come back again.
“Has this got something to do with the woman who lost her wallet?” Lucy asks, placing the chunky cream receiver back into its cradle.
“Yeah, I think it might,” I reply carefully. “I hate to put you in this position, Lucy, but could you let me try to speak to Michelle before we report this? I don’t know exactly what’s going on yet but I am pretty sure I’m missing something very important here.”
Lucy weighs my request, concern creasing her brow, but I sense she’s aware that calling the police means admitting she let someone into my apartment without checking their ID properly, email or no email. Finally she nods, returns the monitor screens to their live feeds, and swivels her chair back to me.
“Well, the footage is there, if we need it. It gets wiped after a month but you’re fine until then.”
“Thank you, Lucy, I really appreciate this. I need to speak to her before I drag in the police.”
She shifts in her chair. “I know it’s not my place to say this,” she says carefully, “but I really think you should just call the cops. I don’t know if she’s your friend or something but she’s been here a lot and she’s obviously very convincing when she needs to be.”
I take in her concern. It must seem crazy from Lucy’s perspective for me not to report this, but that note left for me this morning wasn’t left by whoever took Emily, it was left by Emily herself.
BE VERY CAREFUL WHAT YOU DO NEXT
I had assumed it was a threat, but what if it was just a warning? She must know by now that I’ve heard the recording. Could she be warning me off reporting her disappearance, her rape, in case whoever she is hiding from right now comes for me next? She knows firsthand how dangerous those men are. Perhaps in her own strange way, Emily is trying to protect me.
Marla had said as much when I contacted her too. She’d told me to let this go, that while I might think I was helping Emily I really wasn’t. But I don’t know how I can explain that to Lucy.
“I hear what you’re saying,” I explain, “but it’s very delicate. I don’t know yet, but I think the woman in the tape is in some kind of trouble. I know it sounds crazy but I think she might be hiding from someone. I don’t want to make her situation worse. Or mine.” Her face slackens. I definitely haven’t eased her concern. “Could you just let me see that email she sent again?” I ask.
She looks momentarily surprised by the request but rises nonetheless and leads me back out to the lobby reception.
I jot down the cell number written in the email and thank Lucy once more.
“Oh, and it goes without saying, please don’t let her back up to my apartment,” I say firmly. “Don’t let anyone upstairs for me anymore, at all…no matter what they say. And could you make a note on the system for the daytime reception team too? Oh, and can I get a new door code for tonight?”
“Of course. Not a problem,” she replies. “Again, I am so sorry about all of this. Even with the email I should have checked her ID first. I should have confirmed with you in person.”
“It’s fine, Lucy, seriously. I mean how could you possibly have known?”
I head upstairs with one clear thought in my head: The sooner I get out of this place the better.
28
It’s a Test
MONDAY, FEBRUARY 15
My alarm blasts early and I groan awake.
I did not sleep well. I didn’t even turn out the lights until well past one a.m. and then only after barricading the front door with an armchair with one of the bedside tables piled high on top. It wouldn’t have stopped Emily, or anyone else, from getting in—if they somehow managed to get past the now impeccably vigilant Lucy—but it would have certainly slowed them down and definitely woken me up in the process.
I roll out of the tangle of sheets and head, half dead, to the warm cascade of the shower, letting it slowly bring me back to life.
I’d stayed up late, instinctively going through all of my belongings and double-checking my passport, trying to think of any other reason that could explain why Emily took my key on Wednesday. But nothing was missing. I checked the phone number I took from her email, and it matched Emily’s cell number. I texted and I emailed her on the email address I got from her laptop:
From: Eliot, Mia
Sent: Sunday, February 14, 2021 12:57 AM
To: “Emily Bryant” <[email protected]>
Subject:
I know you were in my apartment.
And I know what happened on New Year’s Eve.
I am so so sorry about what happened to you but I don’t understand why you stole from me, or why you made Joanne come here, or why you repeatedly broke into my apartment. What is going on? Are you hiding from someone?