Chapter 3

The girl behind the desk looked over and asked, "Tori, isn't that your private spot? Why are random people parking there every single day?"

"Don't worry about it," I said quietly. "Now I know."

In my head, I put together the timeline.

I first agreed to let her borrow it back in February. It was May now. Three months.

Over those three months, I had gone on thirteen business trips, spending more than forty days away from home.

If she rented it out to an average of two cars a day, how much money had she pocketed off my parking space? I couldn't calculate it, and frankly, I didn't even want to.

Back in my condo, I opened Amazon and immediately checked out the parking lock in my cart.

I chose expedited shipping; it would arrive tomorrow.

Right then, Brenda's voice drifted in from outside my door.

These older buildings had terrible soundproofing. Her voice on the phone out in the hallway came through loud and clear.

I was about to put on my headphones, but a single sentence caught my ear, freezing my hand mid-air.

"Yeah, tomorrow at ten in the morning that spot will be open. Just tell your friend to drive straight over. Price is what I told you: ten bucks an hour, eighty flat for the whole day. It's prime location, only a five-minute walk to the park entrance. In peak tourist season, that's a steal."

She laughed, sounding thoroughly pleased with herself.

"Don't worry, the spot belongs to my neighbor. She travels for work all the time and is barely ever home. I've been doing this for almost a year without a single hitch. The girl's a pushover. Whenever I tell her I'm borrowing it, she never even suspects a thing."

Almost a year.

I leaned against the door, chewing on those words.

I had only agreed to lend it to her three months ago.

Yet she told someone she'd been using it for almost a year.

Which meant long before I ever said yes, she had already started.

Probably starting from the second month after I bought the spot, from the very first time I traveled, from back when I foolishly thought she just needed a one-time favor.

Her call continued.

"Oh, by the way, there's another empty spot over by the south gate. I've got four spots under my belt right now, so whenever you're driving over this way and need parking, just hit me up..."

A laugh bubbled up in my throat, bitter and cold.

The call ended. The hallway fell silent for a few seconds.

Then came a knock on my door.

"Tori? You home?"

I pulled the door open.

Brenda stood outside, holding a plate of freshly sliced watermelon. The smile on her face was identical to the one in her voice on the phone—warm, friendly, and utterly flawless.

"Hey, don't take what happened earlier to heart! I had no idea you couldn't handle cold stuff. See, I didn't even chill this melon for you."

"One of these days, dinner is on me. Seriously, I've been saying it forever, but this time I mean it!"

Dinner is on me.

I had heard that line at least ten times.

The first time was when she claimed her brother-in-law was moving his car right away. The second was when she left me waiting outside the gate for forty minutes.

Every single time, it was "one of these days," and every single time, she had an excuse to bail.

Last time, her kid supposedly had a fever; the time before that, unexpected guests dropped by; the time before that, I couldn't even remember because I never took her seriously anyway.

"It's fine, Brenda. I didn't take it to heart," I said, taking the plate with a faint smile.

"We'll definitely grab dinner sometime."

She nodded eagerly and turned to leave.

The slap-slap of her slippers echoed down the hallway, fading into the distance.

The next morning, my phone buzzing woke me up.

It was Brenda calling.

I ignored it.

She called several times in a row. I didn't answer a single one.

Then came the knocking.

"Tori! Tori, are you in there?"

I pulled the duvet higher over my shoulders and didn't move.

The knocking persisted.

Brenda's patience was legendary when she wanted something; she could bang on a door for ten straight minutes without getting tired.

"Tori! Your car is still in the spot! Weren't you traveling today? When are you moving it?"

I got out of bed, walked over, and swung the door open.

Brenda stood outside, and behind her stood a stranger.

A middle-aged man wearing sunglasses, twirling a set of car keys, staring down at his phone.

When he heard the door open, he looked up at me.

"Morning, Brenda," I said evenly.

"Oh, you're up! I was worried I'd wake you!" Brenda beamed, stepping slightly to the side. "When are you pulling your car out?"

"Oh, my mistake," I said.

"I'm not traveling today."