CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Psycho…

Nova POV

“Nova… stop!”

The command cracked through the night like a whip. My sneakers screeched against wet pavement as I spun, lungs burning, fear burning hotter.

The figure tugged at the edge of their mask, fingers frantic, like tearing off their own skin. And then—

Oh God.

Not a stranger.

The face beneath was not what I expected. Not some alleyway creep with a knife. Or a kidnapper.

It’s Sandra.

Sandra from the front desk. Sandra, with her migraine-bright ...