The Safe House. The Smell. The Sign.
The safe house was the kind of place even memories couldn't find.
Elias didn't explain where it was-just drove in silence and parked underground like a ghost returning to its crypt. Ivy followed him up three flights of cement stairs, the sound of her own footsteps echoing too loud.
The apartment was narrow and cold. No windows on one side, no artwork, no color. Just grays and browns and sterile shadows that hugged the corners like they'd been waiting.
Ivy walked through the space like it might vanish beneath her.
"It's clean," Elias said behind her. "No ties to me. Or you."
She dropped her bag on the floor and turned. "What was this place before?"
"A rental," he said. Then, quieter: "Now it's nothing."
---
Later. Silence.
Ivy sat on the edge of the bed in the smaller room. Her phone buzzed again. Another message from her mother. No words-just:
> "Are you safe?"
She didn't reply. She couldn't explain the kind of danger she was in. Not when it didn't have a name. Not yet.
Outside, the sky was dimming into storm-blue. A quiet kind of dusk.
She walked to the living room and found Elias reading something at the counter-eyes scanning faster than any normal person. She watched him before speaking.
"Do you think he saw me?" she asked.
He didn't look up. "Who?"
"The man who killed Kara."
Now he looked.
"I think he watched you before that night."
Her stomach sank.
"Why?"
Elias didn't answer. He flipped a page in the file and slid it her way.
It was a grainy still image from hotel security footage.
Two women walking out of the elevator.
Kara. And Ivy.
And in the reflection of the wall mirror behind them-a third figure. Blurred. Unclear. Just a dark coat and the flash of a gold ring.
Ivy leaned in.
"That's from the night of-?"
He nodded.
"Is that...?"
"We don't know," Elias said carefully. "Could be a guest. Could be staff. Could be-"
He paused. "Could be him."
---
Midnight
She didn't sleep. Not really.
Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Kara's face. Not the blood. Not the dress.
Just her eyes. Wide. Frozen. Accusing.
Ivy got up and walked through the quiet house barefoot. The air was too still.
She passed the living room.
Elias was awake-sitting on the couch, elbow on his knee, flipping through crime scene photos with his head in his hand. He looked younger like that. Or more tired. Maybe both.
"You don't sleep either," she said.
He didn't look up. "Didn't plan to."
She stood near the hallway, one hand on the wall.
"Can I ask you something?"
His eyes finally met hers.
"What happened the last time you brought someone here?"
A beat passed.
Then another.
"She didn't make it out," Elias said.
That was it.
Ivy didn't push. She just stood there, heart slow and heavy.
And for the first time since this started, she felt it:
Not fear.
Not sadness.
Alone.
She turned to go back to her room when he said quietly:
"You were supposed to be the sixth."
She froze.
"What?"
He stood now, slow, as if the words weighed more than the gun on his hip.
"There were five before Kara. All blonde. All killed quickly. Cleanly. No evidence left behind. All had something small in common-careers linked to law, media, education. Kara didn't fit."
Ivy's voice cracked. "But I do."
Elias nodded. "You were the outlier. And now you're the thread."
---
Later, Ivy's Room
The water wouldn't run in the sink.
She turned the faucet and nothing came out.
Weird.
She leaned down, twisted the knob tighter-and that's when she noticed it.
A smell.
Smoke and citrus. Sharp and expensive. Not hers. Not Elias's.
Her chest tightened.
She stepped back from the sink. Slowly. Deliberately.
No lights flickered. No windows creaked open.
But something was off.
She left the bathroom and walked the hallway. Quiet. Careful.
That's when she saw it.
A mark on the hallway wall. Not written. Not painted. Scratched in.
A snake. Barely visible. Just the outline.
But unmistakable.
A snake eating its own tail.
Her breath caught.
She didn't scream. She didn't run.
She backed into the bedroom and locked the door.
Elias hadn't told her that was the symbol.
She only saw it once-reflected in a hotel mirror.
---
Thirty Minutes Later
Elias burst into the apartment like the devil was chasing him. Gun drawn, movements tight and ruthless.
"Ivy!"
She unlocked the bedroom door.
He saw her pale face and went still.
"What happened?"
She just pointed.
He followed her to the hallway.
She didn't speak.
She didn't need to.
Elias crouched and stared at the symbol.
A snake.
He didn't say anything at first.
Then:
"This wasn't here when I left."
"No," she whispered. "It wasn't."
---
Hours Later
Elias sat in the armchair near her bedroom door, coat off, sleeves rolled. His gun rested on the floor beside him.
Ivy lay on the bed, eyes open.
Neither of them spoke.
But they both knew something had changed.
He had been here. In the house. While she slept.
---
Elsewhere...
A man lit a cigarette with a match instead of a lighter-old habit.
He watched Ivy's building from across the street through a rearview mirror, not bothering to hide his smile.
In the passenger seat sat a box of photos.
Each labeled. Each folded at the corner.
Kara. Melanie. Brooke.
And a new one-fresh.
Ivy.