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PROLOGUE - Two Years Earlier
Juliet
“Tess,” I was excited, but I forced myself to speak slowly, to stay calm. I guided my car into the covered parking spot outside my apartment building, keeping the engine on so I didn’t drop the call.
“Hey sis, what’s up?”
“I just talked to my agent.Memories of You—remember that movie?”
“Was that the one last year where you were a waitress?” My sister saw all my movies.
“Yes, yes.” My excitement was making me impatient. “It’s nominated for an Oscar, Tess!I’mnominated!”
There was a brief pause on Tess’s end, and for a moment I thought maybe I’d lost her. But the call was still active.
“Tess?”
“Jules, that’s great.” There was a long pause, and then she said. “I’m proud of you.”
There was something awkward on the line between us, and I wished for a moment that we were closer, that we had the kind of sisterly relationship I read about in books, or saw in movies, or even the kind I’d portrayed in films myself. But I’d left years ago. And though I still talked to my sister a few times a month, sometimes I felt like I was acting in our relationship just as much as I did on film. Acting like there wasn’t a strange distance there. Acting like we were best friends.
“It’s amazing, Jules. Wait till I tell Gran.”
“I hope she doesn’t say something awful.”
“Fifty-fifty chance. But no matter what she says, you know she’ll be proud too. You deserve it.” Tess’s voice had grown warm again, like it had just taken her a moment to actually be happy for me.
“Thanks, Tess.”
“Miss you, Jules.”
“You too.” I hung up, feeling a little space inside me where my family sat, wishing the connection I had with them was just a little fuller, a little rounder somehow. But I turned my focus from that emptiness and to the prospect of the ultimate career achievement. An Oscar!
I got out of the car and climbed the stairs to my townhome to find a guy waiting for me on the landing. He was dressed like a Fedex delivery driver, so I didn't think anything about heading up to the front door and greeting him with a smile.
I was still floating, the unreality of the announcement in the front of my mind and my thoughts reeling through ridiculous things like red carpets and getting a dress for the event. And that’s why I thought at first I’d misheard the man who stood waiting for me to get far enough up the stairs to speak to me.
"You stupid whore," he hissed, which was not the usual way the delivery drivers I'd met had greeted me before. I was more used to things like, "sign for this?" or "here."
"Excuse me?" I figured I’d misheard him.
"Why did you take your clothes off for him? You knew he couldn't love you right." Spittle flew from the man's lips and he took a menacing step toward me, his face reddening under a scruff of scraggly beard.
At this point alarm bells were sounding in my head, and I had stopped three steps from the landing. I began backing down, getting ready to run back to my car.
"Where are you going, Juliet?" The guy went from angry to hurt in a heartbeat, his eyes widening in surprise and his mouth turning into a frown.
Crazy, crazy, crazy— my alarms were ringing for real now.
"I'll take care of you, baby," he started to come down the stairs, reaching for me, trying to catch me, and I turned and jumped down the last three steps. The door of the unit below mine had just swung open, and I barreled in, pushing it shut and locking it behind me.
"And hello to you too," Marina said, laughing as I threw myself into her arms.
"I'm sorry," I said to my neighbor and friend, my voice nearly a shriek. “Call the police. And lock the door. Did you lock the door?” I was shaking, terrified.
"You locked the door. What's going on?" Marina held me out, looking me over. "Why do you look so freaked?"
"There was a guy. Upstairs, in front of my door." Tears were streaming down my face now, and I thought I might hyperventilate. I gripped Marina’s hand.
