Thank God my food is here because I’m absolutely starving. I yell toward the door that I’ll be there in just a moment. I stand, tucking my phone into the back pocket of my jeans. I grab another $100 bill off the table and answer the door. A strange man stands there, staring at me, no Chinese food in hand. I’m not sure if I should slam the door in his face or tell him I’m not interested in whatever he’s selling. I don’t get very many visitors at my apartment. I take a step back, just shy of the doorway and analyze him once more. He has dark hazel eyes and light brown hair. He is of medium stature and looks to be pretty fit. He stays perched on my stoop, clasping his hands together and smiling. 

“Hi. How can I help you?”
“Hello, miss. My name is Nick. Are you Harper Torres?” How the fuck does this dude know my name?! I’m absolutely baffled. I can’t speak. I don’t want to. I just want him to go away. To never come back.