Chapter 3

03

I didn't look back. I'd only just reached the security door, my hand not even on the handle, when a violent pounding erupted outside.

"Open up! I saw Zoe come in here! Damn it, open the door and give me the money, or I'll break it down!"

Morgan was kicking the door like a madman, the metal booming so loud it felt like it might give way any second.

"It's Morgan..." My mother went white with fear, frozen where she stood, hands useless at her sides.

"How did he track her here?" Aunt Diane shot up and dragged Brittany toward the kitchen. "Call the police, quick! What if that lunatic gets in and hurts one of us?"

The relatives who'd been lecturing me from their high horse a minute ago were now the first to bolt, terrified of getting caught up in any of it.

"So you won't open it, huh!"

Outside, Morgan lost whatever sense he had left. He'd found a brick somewhere and slammed it hard into the peephole.

Nina cowered behind me, clutching my leg, trembling all over.

I stared at the shuddering door, my heart in my throat.

"Zoe, you listen to me! You don't hand me fifty grand today, I'll stand out here and scream until every neighbor in this complex knows what a piece of trash you are! You make things hard for me, I'll make things hard for your whole family!"

Listening to his shameless cursing, watching Aunt Diane and Brittany huddle in the kitchen not daring to breathe, a wave of pure absurdity washed over me.

Down here in the mud, I couldn't even keep my daughter from being scared.

Morgan kept battering the door. My mother fumbled her phone out, her fingers shaking too hard to even punch in 911.

I took a deep breath, turned, and walked to her, pressing my hand over hers.

"Mom," I said, and my voice came out startlingly calm, enough to surprise even me. "That captain. When can I meet him?"

She froze. Even the pounding at the door seemed to blur out for her. "You... what did you say?"

"I said," I looked straight into her eyes and spoke each word clearly, "I'll do the match. Set it up now."

In that moment, it clicked. What was three years out of contact? What was living like a widow?

Compared to this hell right here, threatened by my ex whenever he pleased, too scared even to call the police, three years without a man sounded like heaven.

Aunt Diane poked her head halfway out of the kitchen and looked at me like I'd gone insane. "Zoe, have you cracked?"

I ignored her. I picked up my mother's phone off the table and pulled up that matchmaker's chat. "Mom, video call him. Right now."

Flustered, she took the phone back and placed the call. It rang for a dozen seconds or so, then connected.

I took the phone. A man's face appeared on the screen.