I cut through the parking lot, slipping on ice, steadying myself on the hoods of cars, and snuck behind the strip of stores. My hands fumbled across the exposed bricks of the outer wall, and I leaned into them as I ran, trying not to slip. I squeezed between the wall and two Dumpsters, scraping my back along the bricks as I did. I didn’t think it’d be that tight a squeeze. I thought of staying there since Troy was thicker and wouldn’t fit, but really, how pathetic could I get—hiding behind a Dumpster indefinitely? So I squeezed out the other side and pulled on the back entrance to the pizzeria.

It was locked. By now, I heard Troy somewhere in the back alley. More than that, I felt him. I felt the rage coming off him, and the confidence. I started moving again. Back entrance of the shoe store: locked. Back entrance of the bank: locked, obviously. In front of me, the alley ended at a high wooden fence. Chain-linked metal extended along the back of the lot, enclosing the backyards of the small row homes on the next block.

“Delaney!” I couldn’t see Troy, not with the Dumpsters behind every door, but his voice told me he was close. I pulled on the last door, and miraculously, gracefully, compassionately, it swung open. My relief was short-lived because I found myself in a small mud room with another, thicker door in front of me. Locked. So I spun around and turned the deadbolt on the outside door and slumped to the floor.

There was no heat here. No carpeting, either. And nobody had cleaned the floor in ages. For the life of me, I couldn’t remember what store was past the bank. I knew there was a green overhang marking it, like all the other storefronts. I knew there was a front door made of glass, like the rest. I just didn’t remember any words. I watched the light flicker under the outside door.

If I was a hero I’d storm out and face him down, knee him in the groin, watch him collapse, add a sarcastic jab as I walked away. But here’s the truth. I wasn’t strong. I wasn’t fast. Out in the open, I was the prey. But I was smart. Smart enough to run. Smart enough to hide. Smart enough to stay hidden.

Heavy boots crunched the snow outside. The doorknob jiggled and the wooden frame creaked from the strain of weight on the other side. It creaked, but it held. “You in there, Delaney? We’re not finished talking about this.”

I covered my mouth with my hand, like I needed a reminder to stay quiet. “Don’t you think you’re being a little silly? A little childish? You can’t very well hang out in the back of a funeral home all night.”

The funeral home. I shivered. I slid my new phone out of my jacket pocket and put it on silent. Then I pressed and held number one and turned the volume as low as it would go. Pick up, pick up, pick up.

“Can I call you back?” Decker mumbled into the phone. I didn’t answer. There were voices in the background, and low music, and I bet if I listened hard enough, I could pick out Tara’s voice. I bet I wouldn’t even have to listen that hard.

“Delaney?” he said. “You there?” Then I heard a muffled, “Be right back,” and the music faded.

“I can hear you breathing. So speak already.” The door jerked back again and I sucked in air. “Delaney, answer me. Are you okay?”

As quietly as I could, in a voice that wasn’t even a voice, just a breath with letters, I exhaled the word, “No.”

Decker got louder, like he was pressing the phone to his face. “Where are you?”

“Funeral home in town,” I whispered.

“What the hell are you doing there?” I didn’t answer. “Never mind, I’m coming.”

But before he could hang up I said, “Around the back.”

And he said, “Don’t hang up,” and I didn’t, so I think he heard the knob jiggle and the door frame protest and the dead bolt bang, metal on metal, and I think he heard the voice calling, “Delaney, I know you’re there,” but he didn’t say a word. He didn’t speak but I heard him breathing, a frantic breathing, and I heard him lay on the horn and the noise was too loud so I slammed the phone shut.

And then I heard Troy laugh. “I can hear you, Delaney. Who’d you call? Is your boyfriend coming for you?” And then a few minutes later I heard snow crunch and tires squeal and a car door slam. And I flipped the lock and threw the door open and couldn’t see anything from the light for a second, couldn’t see if Troy was there and if he was going for Decker or if Decker was going for Troy. But when my eyes adjusted, the only one there was Decker and I let out a pathetic whimper and ran for the car, even faster than he could get there.