KATY’S POV
There’s a man in the lobby when I make it downstairs with my bag. His cold and awful stare locks on me the second I step into view and I know he’s not here to check out the hotel staff or for sightseeing. He’s waiting for me, and every move I make is probably under a microscope.
I wonder if he’s the only one. I wonder how many times I’ve walked past people who looked normal but weren’t? People who seemed harmless but weren’t.
I reach the receptionist and flash a shaky smile. God, even a toddler can tell I’ve got worse than ants crawling up my spine.
The formalities take forever and every second stretches out. My hands are shaking when I finally have to hand over the card, and I fight to keep myself steady. I have to act normal and stop trembling like cold noodles. I have to
