The door to the apartment slammed shut, the sound echoing like a gunshot in the narrow, dimly lit hallway of her building. Nina didn't just close it; she threw herself against the wood, her breath coming in ragged, shallow hitches that seared her throat.
Click. Click. Click.
She threw all three deadbolts, her fingers trembling so violently the metal keys bit into her skin. She stayed there, forehead pressed against the cold, peeling paint of the door, listening. Waiting.
She expected to hear his footsteps, or perhaps the low rumble of that luxury SUV pulling away, but there was nothing. Just the deafening, suffocating silence of her own life pressing in from all sides.
The quiet felt accusatory, as if even the building itself judged her for what had almost happened in the hallway.
