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anyone she’d seen in a long time. She nodded slowly, reaching down for her purse where it had fallen to the sidewalk.
                 

CHAPTER FIVE
     
                  Brooke wrestled with wanting to call the police, call Michelle’s parents, or just put on her shoes and go looking for her on her own. Angela, sitting on the sleeper sofa and casually eating ice cream while flipping channels, wasn’t letting on that she was worried, too, but Brooke could tell Michelle’s disappearance was bothering her. Between horrendous-sized bites of caramel praline ice cream, Angela kept taking alternating looks between the apartment door and the tiny window to the street below.
                  Just as she was about to look up the Vane’s number in New Jersey, Brooke heard voices in the stairwell and charged to the door. She threw it open and pulled Michelle into a tight hug, immediately bursting into tears.
                  “Where have you been? You didn’t call or anything!” she started to yell, but stopped, speechless, when she saw the bandage on Michelle’s face, the deep purple bits of the surrounding bruise visible around its edges. “Oh my god! What happened to your face?”
                  Those words brought Angela, who dropped the ice cream carton on the floor and led Michelle tenderly to the sofa. The three didn’t even notice the driver who had seen her to her door.
                  “I’m going to go now, if you’re okay here?” Lars asked uncertainly, peeking into the apartment without actually stepping inside.
                  “Yes, thank you, Lars. You were so kind,” Michelle said quietly. Brooke and Angela gave Michelle’s arms a simultaneous squeeze when they saw the dark-haired man standing in their doorway. He reached for the doorknob and pulled it shut, reminding them before he closed it to lock up once he left.
                  “WHO was that?” Brooke managed to gasp as she flipped both deadbolts and fastened the chain lock. “He was absolutely god-like! Did he drive you home?”
                  “Um, can we back up and talk about my face first?” Michelle asked with a tired smile, gesturing with her hands to her ripped, dirty work dress and her hair unraveling from the bun Mr. Phan insisted she wear.
                  “Of course, honey,” Angela said, smoothing the escaped tendrils of hair out of Michelle’s face. “Tell us everything that happened so we can hurry up and get to the part about the gorgeous guy.” Michelle laughed genuinely at the joke, knowing that her roommates really did care. The motion made her face hurt again and she grabbed her cheek, causing Brooke to spring from the arm of the couch to bring her some ice.
                  Michelle took a deep breath to start at the beginning, but then the full force of the evening hit her hard. She burst into tears instead, sobbing as her roommates exchanged frightened looks. The whole story poured out, ending with losing her job and having to get a ride home, all because of Daniel.
                  “I’m sorry, but did this girl just sit here and cry about losing her job?” Angela asked Brooke sarcastically. “How about, ‘I’m crying because my loser boyfriend attacked me’? Maybe something like that?”
                  Brooke rolled her eyes and shrugged at Michelle’s practical, walled-off nature. “Angela’s right, sweetie, you just need to worry about you. Don’t worry about anything else.”
                  “Hell, now that it’s over, I’d say we can look on the bright side of things. You lost a job that barely paid you anything and you lost a boyfriend who wasn’t worth anything, plus you got a ride home from an actual member of the Greek gods. I’m sorry to be the one to break it to you, but this is the best night you’ve had in a long