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steadily getting drunk off their asses, dancing to bad pop music with a partner they won’t remember in the morning. On my father’s street, all is quiet. A sector of the city sequestered away by the rich and their families, living in high-rise apartments, raising their children to be city brats like I was once.
    We reach the revolving door and I hand Ashleigh the key. “I’ll be up in a minute.”
    Her eyes gloss over. She wants to say something . Come on, spit it out.
    “Okay,” she says, spinning on her heels.
    It’ll be different, entering my father’s condo as an owner, rather than an unwelcome guest. I’m not ready to face that just yet.
    I’m well aware of my status as a single woman, more than I was when I was sixteen and naïve, as I roam around the quiet block, unafraid of the black alleyways but ever cautious of the sound of footsteps ringing in the night. I would never dress like this and wander the streets of Baltimore alone but there’s something about Chicago that makes me feel invincible. I can flash the weight of my bracelet, tuck my hair behind my ears and reveal my diamond earrings, pinch my debit card in two fingers and be absolutely fine. I’m untouchable. Lucky. Tonight has proven that.
    I don’t want to think about Neal or Carl but the image of the two of them, packed in a single stall, Carl’s knees pushed to his chest as Neal towers over him, buries itself beneath my skin. I can feel Carl’s bottom lip splitting open, a trail of blood skating down his chin, staining his faded white button-down. All because of me.
    I know the drill. I took self-defense classes in college and sat in on feminist meetings where the moderator chanted it’s not your fault, it’s never your fault , over and over like a mantra. I believed her – believe her – but the weight of my guilt won’t let up.
    What if…       
    What if Nate and Chris killed him?
    My chest tightens and I draw my bottom lip between my teeth.
    A black car pulls in front of the building. I know it’s them before the backdoor opens and Neal and Chris step out. They spot me immediately, standing in the middle of the sidewalk, my arms wrapped around myself. Neal shuts the door and the car drives off, down the road and around the corner, taking the disruptive sound of the engine with him.
    Chris casts a glance up the street and down. “Where’s Ashleigh?”
    “I don’t know,” I say.
    Neal smirks. “She’s upstairs, isn’t she?”
    Chris doesn’t need my permission to enter the building. Like Neal, he walks with an air of authority, like he belongs everywhere. With one glance, the man at the front desk will assume Chris lives in the building and he’ll leave him to travel up to my father’s condo without warning.
    “You shouldn’t be out here by yourself,” Neal says.
    My arms tighten around me. “That’s true.”
    He’s staring at me, mouth and eyes soft at the corners, his arms hanging cautiously at his sides. “Did I do something wrong?”
    I almost laugh. “Where do I start?”
    Neal watches me walk from one end of the building to the other, my heels scratching at the concrete as I move towards him.
    He stuffs his hands in his pockets. “I’m listening.”
    “What did you do to him?”
    “To who?”
    “Please don’t treat me like I’m stupid.”
    Neal straightens his shoulders. “You saw what I did.”
    “After. What did you do after I left and Chris joined you?”
    “Is that really important?”
    “ Yes ,” I say. “What you choose to do to another human being is very important.”
    Neal ducks his head. With his black hair, black suit, black shirt and black tie, he blends into the city, sharp and chiseled like a daunting skyscraper. He looks nothing like my father but I see shades of him inside of Neal. The way he looks at me, slightly impatient, waiting for the questions to stop rolling off my tongue.
    “Are you alright?” he says. “I thought…I thought you’d be happy that I saved