Justin – POV
The voices had dulled—not gone, but fading, like they'd crawled back into whatever pit they came from, just for now. Like they'd gotten full off my fear and wanted to digest in peace.
I drove fast. Tires screaming around corners. Windows cracked enough to feel the cold slap of night air against my cheek. I didn't turn on the radio. Couldn't stand the thought of another voice in my head, even if it was just some pop singer trying to make heartbreak sound catchy.
It was already fucking dark.
Great.
I'd spent hours reliving my own goddamn horror show like some twisted rerun on loop. Body aching. Brain fried. Heart a clenched fist of something I didn't want to name.
I pulled into my complex like I'd been summoned back by some dark force, because apparently, peace wasn't part of my karmic deal.
The elevator was slow.
Everything was too quiet.
And when I turned the corner to my hallway—
There she was.
June fucking Matthews.
