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Jamie’s attention snaps from the open door to me.

Oliver doesn’t move.

I step closer to Jamie and slide my hand beneath his hair. His choker sits exactly where I fastened it this morning. I hook one finger through the silver ring and draw him down until his mouth is near mine. “Can you manage him?”

Jamie’s eyes flick toward Oliver once. When they come back, there’s something proud beneath the caution. “Yes.”

“If he does anything ugly, you’ll tell me when I get home.” I kiss him slowly while Oliver waits inside his open door. His hands stay at his sides while I take my time. I press my thumb against the pulse under the choker when I pull away. “Good boy.”

His mouth follows mine for half an inch before he catches himself.

I leave Oliver’s door open. Simon’s door stays locked. I don’t have another doll trained to hold it shut yet.

I put the keys in my purse and head downstairs. I should probably start charging my dolls a moving fee. Collecting them is the fun part. Dealing with everything they leave behind is practically a second job.

I drive to Simon’s apartment and let myself in.

Simon’s apartment is cleaner than I expected and almost completely empty.

There’s a mattress on the bedroom floor, one chair in the living room and a narrow table shoved against the wall. A sharpening stone sits on it beside a stack of unopened mail. No pictures. No stupid decorative shit somebody bought because they thought a blank wall needed help.

I open the refrigerator. Hot sauce fills most of the door. There are four energy drinks, mustard, half a lemon and one takeout container with dried rice around the edges.

A square of paper is held to the refrigerator with a magnet.

Eat before your shift. I mean it.

Chef

I read it twice. Then I take it down.

The handwriting is sharp and heavy enough to leave dents in the paper. In an empty fucking house, Simon thought this was worth space?

I fold it once and put it in my pocket.

The bathroom is just as sparse. One towel. One toothbrush. Soap. Deodorant. Nothing I didn’t already buy better versions of for his room.

The bedroom gives me even less until I check beside the mattress.

There’s a small zippered case tucked against the wall. I know what’s inside before I open it. The blades are wrapped separately and kept clean.

Simon decided how much pain he was allowed to have and used this to give it to himself. Not anymore. I close the case and put the whole thing in my bag.

It needs to appear as if Simon packed. I take two shirts, underwear, socks and the least offensive pair of trousers from the drawer and put them into an old duffel bag from the closet. His toothbrush goes into the side pocket with deodorant and the phone charger from beside the mattress.

I check the bathroom again and remove the towel from its hook. Then I put it back. Too much.

Oliver’s apartment looked like somebody tore through it because Juney made me angry. That was her fault. There’s no reason to repeat the mistake.

I zip the duffel and set it beside the door.

The apartment is quiet. Then a key slides into the lock.

I snatch the duffel from beside it and move.

The bedroom has nowhere to hide a grown woman. The closet contains one coat and enough empty space to make me obvious the second somebody opens it. The bathroom is worse, but the shower curtain is at least opaque.

I step into the tub and draw the curtain closed just as the front door opens.