“I like how you see that.” Sylvie looked into Ade’s eyes. “This genre of film was about playing with the male gaze and how beauty was depicted.”
“Why was it always from a man’s perspective? It’s annoying.”
“It was just what happened at the time. Men were earning the money to make and consume films, so they made what they wanted to. Thankfully, it fueled a whole world of research into what makes a woman when she’s portrayed through her own eyes or the eyes of another woman.” Sylvie took a breath. “Women see other women completely differently.”
Ade bit her lip in a way that made Sylvie want to reach out and run her finger along her cheek.
“I just prefer the natural world, where there’s an equilibrium of roles.” Ade straightened in her seat, as if she was aware of Sylvie’s lingering gaze. “Everything has its purpose, and one sex isn’t more important than another.” She stared at the image for a moment longer and stiffened. “Thank you.”
Sylvie drew back.What had happened?Ade seemed closed off, and her cheeks reddened with embarrassment.
“I have to go,” Ade said, pulling a handful of euros from her pocket.
“It’s okay; I’ll get these,” Sylvie said, a little confused by Ade’s sudden exit.
“I really appreciate the postcard,” Ade said.
And then she was gone.
Sylvie sipped at her own drink and replayed the last minute.Did we just have a moment?It was like they’d connected on a deeper level, only for the wires to cross. Maybe she’d misread Ade’s signals again. She was hardly the easiest person to have a conversation with. Sylvie rubbed her temple. She’d been enjoying a wonderful sense of ease, only to be jolted in her seat by Ade’s mood swing. Maybe that hadn’t been the connection she thought it was. Perhaps she could trust neither her reading of Ade, nor her own emotions. Which was a shame, because the more time they spent together, the more Sylvie wished for more.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Ade pulledthe cool morning air into her lungs and wiped the dew from the painted windowsill with a cloth. She opened the dormer window to welcome in the blue sky. It was Halloween. Back home, the town’s porches and lawns would’ve come to life with tricks and treats, and she’d spend the night avoiding the jump scares. Halloween brought strange noises and a change in routine, neither of which she relished. Here, the city’s nightlife played up the occasion. She’d seen more posters of orange and green cocktails in the last week than she had in her lifetime.
Leaning against the makeshift window seat that she’d fashioned from a spare cushion, she contemplated the day ahead. She’d made it to Thursday with minimal drama. The classes had been fairly calm. Her lab time had been golden. Greg had come and gone for his shift, requiring the briefest of small talk, which suited her. She’d bumped into Sylvie in the faculty staff room, and they’d met for coffee. Ade glanced over at the wall where she’d stuck the postcard Sylvie had given her. It brightened up the blank space.
She cringed, going over the awkward way she’d reacted to the gift. She’d botched her thanks and came off as aloof. Maybe even rude. She hadn’t meant to, but she’d been spooked by the gesture and couldn’t think fast enough.
Sylvie graciously smoothed the whole thing over, of course. But it wasn’t enough for Ade not to rethink it over and over. Re-rehearsing what she would have said, given a second chance, she jumped at the noise at the door. She froze, hoping she’d imagined it, but feared with every fiber of her body that someone was behind that door.
Holding her breath, she strained to hear any movement.
The lock. The lock began to turn. Someone was turning it from the outside.
Ade swallowed. All moisture had evaporated from her mouth, and she almost gagged from the dry air.Focus.She closed her eyes to drown out the extraneous information in her head, allowing her to zero in on what she could do next, and she calculated all the possibilities in a fraction of a second. Her brain wasn’t slow; it was overflowing.
She grabbed a metal ladle from the work surface and smashed it against the door. “Get out!” She sucked in a breath. “I’m in here and if you try to get in, I’ll call the police.”
The footsteps retreated. They got quieter until she heard the slam of a door at the bottom of the staircase. Shaking, she sank to the floor. Someone had tried to get into her apartment. If she hadn’t been here, they would have. All at once, the tabs in her brain reopened, flooding her with every thought she’d had that week. Top of the pile was the imminent danger she’d just faced and the overwhelming fear it had prompted.
She needed to call someone. Steph was too far away, and she’d only worry. Her dads were still asleep and ditto. What could they possibly do from California except drive themselves insane with “what ifs.” She thought of Marcella downstairs. She’d been so wonderful last week when that fraudster had turned up. Was it that same guy? A circuit in her mind fired up, and she flicked through a picture book of the fraudster who’d been in her apartment. She zoomed into the detail of his uniform, the ruffled collar, the texture of his hair. Then panned back out to the apartment door, imagining him behind it.
Her hands trembling, Ade touched the door lock. Had he really gone? She hesitated. Maybe she should just stay safe in here for the next few hours. But then it would get dark, and she’d be stuck.
She pulled out her phone. There was only one person who might come, only one person she wanted.
An hour later, the intercom buzzed, ringing in the silence and Ade jumped out of her skin once more. She put her ear to the entrance, listening for the familiar footsteps, and once she was sure, she opened the door. “Thanks for coming,” she said.
“It’s nothing. I wanted to make sure you’re okay.” Sylvie strode in with two coffees. “Those stairs are a killer. Next time, find a lower apartment, second floor at most. Worse views but no heart attack.”
Ade laughed, her heart rate dropping for a moment.
“Now.” Sylvie looked her square in the face. “Tell me.”
Ade relayed the morning’s events and also filled her in on the air filter scam from the week before.
“We need to go to the police. You’ve obviously been watched by them.”
