I force a smile. “I love you for offering, but I think we both just need sleep right now,” I say. Daya nods, and after wishing me goodnight, retires to her room. I flop on the white duvet in her guest bedroom. Just like the rest of her house, it’s pretty bare in here. Light blue walls, decorated with a few oceanic pictures and white, gauzy curtains. My eyes snag on those. Not the curtains themselves, but what’s in between them. For the second time tonight, my heart lodges into my throat, pulsating against my voice box and preventing me from making a sound. Outside the window is the silhouette of a man. Staring directly at me. I take a step back, ready to turn and call for Daya. When my phone buzzes, I flinch, freezing me in place and nearly choking me on the fear. Keeping one eye on the man, I slide my phone out of my pocket and see a new text message. UNKNOWN: You didn’t like my flowers?