Chapter 2

She was wearing a wine-red silk slip dress with a thin cashmere cardigan draped over her shoulders. Her long, wavy hair fell loosely around her face.

Beautiful. And exhausted.

I hesitated, then cracked the door open — just enough, the chain still on.

"Hi. I just moved in next door." The woman gave me a strained smile. Her eyes were red. "I'm Zoe."

"Can I help you?" I kept my guard up.

"I... could I come in for a minute?" Zoe bit her lip. Tears spilled down her cheeks. "I don't know who else to turn to. I'm scared."

Something in me softened at the sight of her.

We were both women. Both living alone in a city that didn't care. Everyone falls apart sometimes.

I unlatched the chain and let her in.

Zoe sank onto the couch, cradling the mug of hot tea I handed her, her body still trembling faintly.

"What happened?" I passed her a few tissues.

Zoe wiped her eyes and looked up at me, her gaze full of desperation.

"Abby, women need to stick together — can you help me out?"

I blinked. "Help you with what?"

"Help me catch my husband's mistress."

I nearly choked on my own saliva.

In the middle of the night, she'd come to her neighbor's door for this?

"Your husband... is cheating on you?" I asked carefully.

Zoe nodded, and the tears started falling again. "He's been coming home really late lately, and he smells like another woman's perfume. And I found out he's been secretly following someone."

"Following someone?" I latched onto that word immediately, and a wave of unease washed over me.

"Yeah. He was wearing a black trench coat and a baseball cap..."

My head started buzzing.

Black trench coat? Baseball cap? Following someone?

"Your husband — is he really tall? Around six foot one or so?" I asked urgently.

Zoe stared at me. "How did you know?"

That confirmed it.

The creep I'd pepper-sprayed in the parking garage was my next-door neighbor's husband.

I was so angry I could grind my teeth. No wonder he knew my name — he must have checked the building's resident registry, or overheard it somewhere.

He had a gorgeous wife right next door, and instead he was out there stalking me. What an absolute creep and a scumbag, through and through.

Fueled by shared outrage, I immediately told Zoe everything that had happened in the parking garage.

"What? You pepper-sprayed him?" Zoe's eyes went wide — and then, to my surprise, a look of deep satisfaction crossed her face. "Good. Serves him right. Men like that need to be taught a lesson."

Just like that, we were on the same side.

Zoe sipped her water and glanced around my apartment.

"You live alone?"

I nodded. "Yeah, just moved in not too long ago."

Her gaze drifted to the front door. She frowned slightly, like something was turning over in her mind.

"Abby," she said, turning to look at me with a new resolve in her eyes, "I want solid evidence before I take him for everything he's got. Would it be okay if I... installed a hidden camera outside your door?"

I froze.

"If I put it outside my door, he'll get suspicious. But if it's on your side, it'll catch the blind spot in the hallway — he'd never think to look there." Zoe took my hand, her voice soft and earnest. "Please, Abby. I'm begging you."

Looking at her red, swollen eyes, I couldn't bring myself to say no.

And honestly — if it could capture evidence of that creep's behavior, it would protect me too.

"Okay," I said. "I'll do it."