Chapter 7 - THE NIGHT THE LIGHTS WENT OUT
Rosie had rented a small accessible room near the employment center.
It wasn't perfect.
The bathroom was cramped.
The kitchen was barely large enough for a table.
But the entrance had no stairs.
And the landlord treated her with ordinary courtesy.
She had started working part-time at a bookstore.
The job wasn't glamorous.
But she loved it.
Books had always been her refuge.
On a Thursday evening, she returned home carrying groceries.
The hallway lights were out.
Rosie stopped.
The building was usually bright.
She reached for her phone.
Before she could turn on the flashlight, she heard footsteps.
Slow.
Heavy.
Coming from the stairwell.
Rosie tightened her grip on the crutch.
"Hello?"
No answer.
The footsteps stopped.
Then a man's voice spoke from the darkness.
"Rosalie Bellwood?"
Her stomach dropped.
"Who's asking?"
The man stepped into the faint light from the street.
He wore a dark coat.
His face was unfamiliar.
"You've been asking questions."
Rosie backed toward the exit.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
The man smiled.
"Sure you do."
He moved closer.
Rosie turned and hurried toward the front door.
Her prosthesis caught slightly on the uneven floor.
She stumbled.
The man reached for her.
Rosie swung her crutch.
It struck his forearm.
He cursed.
She pushed through the door and shouted for help.
A passing driver stopped.
Someone called the police.
The man fled.
Rosie sat on the curb, shaking.
Her groceries lay scattered across the sidewalk.
When officers arrived, she gave a statement.
Then she called Evelyn.
Not Dante.
Evelyn listened carefully.
Then said:
"Rosie, I think someone is trying to frighten you away from the investigation."
May you like
Rosie looked at the dark building.
"Then they're going to be disappointed."
