16

My apartment is six blocks from here. I don’t feel great walking around the Bellefleur District at night, but I’ve learned a few tricks, ways of protecting myself from unwanted attention. Mostly, I’ve learned how to walk quickly and remain beneath anyone’s notice.

But once I’ve already attracted notice, what then?

I have no fucking clue.

I fall back on one of my usual tricks—sticking close to other crowds of people, so I don’t look like I’m alone and defenseless. There are plenty of groups around because it’s only ten p.m. Two strip clubs line the next block, as well as a karaoke bar and a late-night diner. I hurry toward them, hoping that the men from table thirty-nine remain where they are.

After walking a few yards, I bend down and pretend to adjust my shoe while I peek beneath my arm.

They’re following me. Shit.

A neon sign lights up the window of the karaoke bar. Kitty Cat Karaoke. A crowd of people loiters in front, talking and laughing. They aren’t waiting to get in, but social