My life with Eren made me acutely aware of the fact that there was no such thing as comfort around the Polat men.
Even as I hauled my bags higher up on my shoulders and made my way off of the elevator in the lobby, I realized I was walking on my tiptoes.
Taking a deep breath, I forced my steps to become normal as I kept my gaze forward, not wanting to make it clear that I knew I was being followed.
I could have taken a cab, but there was a certain level of comfort in the daylight and the crush of people all around, just milking the last couple minutes of my freedom as I walked back toward my apartment building.
“Ma’am,” the daytime doorman greeted me as I made it to the doors.
I wanted to see Harold.
With his little ways of trying to make my life easier.
With his kind, understanding eyes.
Instead, it was just one of the rotating daytime ones with the hard, judgmental eyes, likely blaming me for my husband’s cheapness, his complete unwillingness to tip them no matter how far out of their way they might have gone to assist him.
I half expected for all the eyes on the building to be on me.
That’s her. The one who found the hands.
But everyone seemed to be minding their own business. Which, somehow, made even more anxiety move through my system as I got off the elevator on my floor.
It was naive to think anyone would mind my business now. They never had before.
All except…
“There you are,” Judy said from behind me as I tried to get up the nerve to put the key in my lock. “How are you?” she asked, coming across the hall, then moving inside with me as I went inside, making the movement easier.
“I’m okay. Well, I was okay,” I said, my gaze sliding to the counter, my mind flashing back to the hands there. Even though there was no trace. In fact, the whole apartment smelled strongly of industrial cleaner.
“But you don’t want to be back here,” Judy concluded.
“Exactly,” I agreed.
“But… for some reason—that involves men in suits—you need to be here,” she said, looking around.
“Yes. At least for a while.”
“Should we be worried about… you know,” she said, voice so low that I could barely hear it.
“I know?” I asked, frowning at her.
“Devices?” she asked, making my eyes widen.
I hadn’t given that any thought.
“I don’t know,” I admitted.
“I will look into how to tell,” Judy promised. “We can talk when you come over for dinner later.”
“Dinner?” I asked.
“Let’s call it a standing date for the time being. So we can… you know… check in with each other,” she said, reaching out to give my wrist a squeeze before walking away.
“Judy,” I called, making her turn back as she got to the doorway. “Thank you.”
“Anytime,” she said, giving me a smile, then walking out, leaving me alone.
I hadn’t ever considered the idea of cameras. But, I mean, it wasn’t outside the realm of possibilities, was it? Especially since Berat and some men had been alone in the apartment for however long, doing who-knew what.
New fear unlocked, I made my way into the master bedroom, going over to my closet, and making a show of putting my spent clothes in the hamper, then the clean ones away.
Just making it all look as normal as possible.
Then as I pretended like I was rummaging around in my purse when, in fact, I was texting Brio.
Could it be possible that there are cameras set up here? If so, how do I find them?
Then I double-checked to make sure the volume was off, slid it into my sleeve, then hid it in the back of my toothpaste drawer, a place I didn’t think anyone would go looking.
I spent the next hour or so in a state of heightened paranoia as I cleaned the old food out of the fridge, bringing it out to the trash shoot, then coming back to start looking for important documents.
I found the one I’d told Brio about with birth certificates, and was pleasantly surprised to find that Eren had a plot already bought beside his dead parents. Which was one less thing for me to think about.
There was information on bank accounts that I went ahead and jotted down to keep in a safe space in case Berat came to claim all the documents.
It took another forty minutes to find where Eren kept his little notebook with all his passwords written down.
I had no computer of my own, but took all my notes into the bathroom with me to use on my phone.
And, sure enough, I managed to get right into the bank account.
I wasn’t naive.
It wasn’t the only one.
And it certainly wasn’t where all the money was stashed.
But it was nothing to sneeze at, either.