40: Facing the Beast

I slam the apartment door shut.

I'm still shaking. I can barely hold my keys. They keep slipping from my sweaty hands and they won't stop jingling. It's like my head is filled with cotton candy. I can't quite believe that I'm alive, that I managed to convince Damien Keller that I'm not a spy.

I fish my phone out of my bag and throw my bag across the room. With trembling fingers, I dial Devon's number. I pray to God that he answers this time, because if he doesn't I'll have a panic attack. The phone rings and rings, every ring feels like it's an hour long.

He answers on the last ring. "Amelia, listen. I can't really talk right now—"

"He found out," I interrupt.

Devon is quiet for a long time. We're both breathing heavily on each end of the line. He says, "Keller found out about you?"

"Almost," I admit. "He had cameras. He saw me shove the fucking envelope under the door. He interrogated me and I just panicked."

"Fuck," he mutters beneath his breath. "What happened after? What did he sa