Sophia Reid saw the murder at 11:47 PM.
She'd been working on a commission piece a bride's portrait when movement across the courtyard caught her eye. Two men in suits, third floor corner unit, the apartment that had been empty for months. Sharp gestures. Aggressive postures.
Without thinking, she began reading their lips.
The shorter man: "…didn't sign up for this…"
The taller one pulled a gun.
Sophia's brush clattered to the floor.
Three muzzle flashes lit the window. The shorter man dropped from view.
For a moment, Sophia couldn't breathe, couldn't move, could only stare at the place where a living person had been standing seconds before. Her deaf world usually so calm, so visual, so controllable had just shown her something she could never unhear, even in silence.
The killer looked up.
Their eyes met across the courtyard. He was striking sharp cheekbones, intense eyes, a face that would be handsome if it weren't so cold. He held her gaze, calculating, assessing.
Then he smiled and waved.
Sophia stumbled backward, yanked her curtains closed, and fumbled for her phone with shaking hands.
Maya, emergency. Call 911. I just witnessed a murder.
She included the address, apartment number, description. Sank onto her kitchen floor, back against the cabinets, watching her phone light up with Maya's frantic responses.
The police arrived within twenty minutes. Officers Chen and Martinez took her statement while crime scene investigators swarmed the building across the courtyard. Sophia drew the killer's face from memory years of portrait work made it easy.
Officer Chen studied the sketch with a strange expression. "You're certain this is what he looked like?"
Sophia nodded.
The officers exchanged a glance that made her stomach drop. They recognized him.
"Keep your doors locked," Officer Martinez said carefully. "If you see anything suspicious, call immediately."
"Do you know who he is?" Sophia wrote.
"We're looking into several possibilities." A non-answer. "For your own safety, don't discuss what you saw with anyone except law enforcement."
After they left, Sophia stood at her locked door, feeling more frightened than before. The killer wasn't random he was someone the police already knew. Someone dangerous enough to warrant warnings before they'd even confirmed the body.
She couldn't sleep. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the muzzle flash. Saw him looking up at her with that smile.
At dawn, Maya arrived with coffee and bagels. "You look terrible."
"I feel terrible." Sophia signed, grateful for her best friend's fluent ASL. Speaking aloud always felt awkward, like shouting into a void she couldn't hear.
"Did they catch him yet?"
Sophia shook her head.
"Then you're staying at my place until they do."
"Maya"
"Not negotiable." Maya squeezed her hand. "You witnessed a murder. The guy saw your face. You're not staying here alone."
Sophia wanted to argue, but the relief she felt at not being alone was overwhelming. She was packing a bag when movement outside her window made her freeze.
A moving truck. Workers carrying furniture into her building. Her floor.
And supervising the move, dressed in jeans and a leather jacket, looking directly at her window…..
The killer.
He caught her staring and smiled that same dangerous smile. Waved.
Sophia's bag slipped from her hands.
"What?" Maya rushed to the window, followed Sophia's horrified gaze. "What am I looking at?"
Sophia's hands shook as she signed: "That's him. The killer. He's moving in next door."
Maya's face went white. She grabbed Sophia's phone, fingers flying across the screen. Within seconds, she was texting the police, her face set in grim determination.
But Sophia couldn't look away from the window. The killer was directing movers, pointing, organizing. Like this was normal. Like he hadn't murdered someone twelve hours ago.
Like he hadn't just arranged to live right next door to the only witness who could identify him.
He looked up one more time, caught her eye, and had the audacity to smile before heading inside. Into her building. Onto her floor.
"We're leaving," Maya said, grabbing Sophia's arm. "Right now."
But as they reached the door, Sophia heard it felt it, really. The vibration through the floor. Footsteps in the hallway. Heavy furniture being moved.
The apartment next door was directly beside hers. They shared a wall.
Through her peephole, Sophia watched the movers pass. Watched them unlock the door to 4B. Watched them carry in a leather couch, expensive-looking chairs, boxes labeled in neat handwriting.
And then she saw him. Walking down her hallway like he belonged there. He paused at her door 4A and for a heart-stopping moment, Sophia thought he was going to knock.
Instead, he simply looked at her door. Smiled to himself. And continued to his own apartment.
The message was clear: I know exactly where you are.
Maya was already on the phone texting, Sophia assumed, since Maya knew she'd have to relay everything. Her friend's face was tight with anger and fear.
"Police are sending someone over," Maya signed. "They want us to stay inside until they arrive."
"He's right next door," Sophia signed back, her hands trembling. "Maya, he killed someone, and now he's living twenty feet away from me."
"I know, honey. I know." Maya pulled her into a hug. "But you're not alone. We'll figure this out."
But even as Maya held her, even as sirens began to wail in the distance, Sophia couldn't shake the feeling that she'd already lost.
The killer wasn't running. He wasn't hiding.
He'd moved in next door.
Which meant either he was the most arrogant criminal in New York or he had absolutely nothing to fear from the police.
Neither possibility made Sophia feel any safer.