Chapter 4: Punish

Daniella kept her head down as she exited the building. She'd been successful in avoiding everyone until she ran into Luke at the elevator. She told him about Greg's plan, knowing he'd be upset if he wasn't included. He was quiet at first - never a good sign with him - but when his jaw ticked, she knew he was about to erupt.

She tried to explain it to him once more, but it was like talking to a brick wall. Luke could be over-protective and he wasn't one to change his mind, or listen to reason when he was seething. He ignored her, cursed, then set on a warpath towards Gregori's office. She felt bad for Greg and the whirlwind barreling in his direction, but if anyone could handle Luke, it was him.

She sent Luke a quick text to call her once he'd calmed down, and then another one to ask him if he'd grab her laptop and drop it off at her house tonight. It killed her to leave it there, unattended for the afternoon, especially after her credentials had been used, but she needed to keep up the ruse of a questionable probationary period. She tried to convince herself that they would find the perpetrator, but the task seemed incredulous.

Go home and relax. Take a nice long bath, order an extra-large pizza, and drink a tall glass of chardonnay. That's all you can do right now.

Yet the moment she thought of her home, her stomach churned.

Glancing at her watch, she realized it was noon. She hadn't eaten all day. Once she had some food in her, she'd feel better. That was the only thing that made sense.

Daniella stopped at a little corner café and ordered herself a delicious steak and horseradish melt with a generous portion of avocado, and a raspberry lemonade. She chose a seat outside, where she could enjoy the warm sun and cool breeze. Nature always helped to balance her out. But when she thought of going home again, her stomach cramped so hard she almost vomited.

What was going on? She'd never felt this way before. And to be this sick, especially all day? She knew not to disregard her feelings. How many times had her foresight helped her to avoid the worst? But this? Now? Her home had always made her feel safe, so this had to be something else.

Instead of going home, Daniella stopped in every store she could think of and even took a trip to the museum, trying to enjoy the many sculptures and extravagant paintings. But then the sun began to set, and when she checked her watch it was after 6:00 p.m. Luke usually left the office around that time, and if he'd gotten her message, he'd be on his way over with her laptop. Thinking of him made her feel better. Maybe she'd entice him with the pizza and he could stay and have a bite too.

Maybe I should call and ask him to pick me up? Daniella shook her head at the ridiculous notion. She was fine, everything was fine, and yet with every step closer to her home, she felt worse.

With her building in view, she heard the familiar soft tones of a violin. Daniella used the opportunity for distraction and turned past the topiary and towards the melody's creator, Stacy.

Her friendship with Stacy had begun strangely. Stacy played outside of tall complexes and skyscrapers, handing out flyers for her performances to anyone she could. She always went for the "big fish" and had figured Daniella to be one. But somewhere between Stacy's over-energetic and pushy nature, and her beautiful way of enthralling someone with her music, Daniella had grown to love her, even if she hadn't been given much of a choice. Stacy simply felt good to be around. She was a positive force in Daniella's life, but the moment her eyes landed on Stacy's small blonde form, bile sputtered from her mouth and she turned to vomit into a bush.

Stacy ran over to her and placed her hand on Daniella's back. But instead of a feeling of comfort, Stacy's touch felt like daggers piercing her skin. Daniella pulled away as more bile and unrecognizable chunks spat from her mouth. It's never been this bad.

"Dani, are you okay?"

"Yes," she gasped, begging her stomach to stop dry heaving. "I-I'm fine," she lied. "I think I have the stomach flu. I'm sorry for worrying you. Go back to playing, I'm okay."

Stacy reached out to her. "Dani, you look horrible. Come on, let me help you - "

"No!"

Stacy jerked back and Daniella stumbled to her knees. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, eyes watering as she looked up at Stacy. "The stomach flu has been going around the office. I guess I'm its next victim." She braved a laugh, but Stacy still seemed skeptical. Daniella noticed her clasp her hand tightly to her chest, as if she'd been stung or wounded. "I'm sorry, did I hurt you?"

"No, no. I've probably just been playing too long. But are you sure you're okay? I can help you back to your house?"

Daniella winced at the instant headache brought on by the mention of her home. "No, it's okay. I don't want to make you sick too. Plus, someone will try to take your spot if you're not here."

"Yeah, they're a bunch of vultures." Stacy sighed, turning to check and make sure that no one had touched her violin or taken the money in her case. Then she shifted her focus back on Daniella. "I am going to watch you and make sure you make it into your building, and when you get upstairs, take some medicine and call me after you've rested a little, okay?"

Daniella smiled, but shook her head when Stacy offered to help her up again. "I've got it."

She stood and closed her eyes for a moment. Taking a deep breath, she focused on her mother's mantra, one of the few traditions she had left of her. I am one with the earth. I am one with the Mother. She flows through me. She offers me her guidance, and I can make it through anything.

After the third time, Daniella opened her eyes only to meet Stacy's crystal blue orbs clouded with concern. "I'm feeling better. Don't worry," she said, hoping she sounded convincing enough.

Stacy mumbled something in German and rolled her eyes. "I will always worry about you. You're always working. You don't take care of yourself." She threw her hands in the air. "I work on the street and I'm healthier than you. If I find you passed out in front of your building, I'll call an ambulance for you, only after I knock you upside the back of your head."

Daniella gave a real laugh this time. "Yes, mother. But you may want to save that for the man getting a little too close to your money."

Stacy turned and stomped towards the stranger, all five-foot-three of her yelling in a mixture of English and German.

Daniella shuffled to her building, counting the steps. Anything to draw attention away from the familiar blackness. The war between her physical body and whatever was bothering her intuition was so intense that she felt lightheaded. Opening the door to her building, she looked around for the night guard, but his post was vacant.

That's odd.

Stacy played right outside of her building, and she had been shouting obscenities. He must have just gone to make sure that everything was all right, and Daniella had missed him by the time she made it to the door.

Her stomach lurched again and she rushed to the elevator. She scanned her keycard, entered, and felt triumphant the moment she pressed the penthouse floor. She'd made it!

Slouching against the golden mirrored wall, her relief was replaced by a buzzing under her skin, as if a second beat had started in her heart, renewing her strength. Her body flooded with a mixture of bliss and energetic adrenaline, and for the first time she questioned if everything that she'd felt had been some sort of anxiety attack, or a mixture between that and her normal intuitive feelings. After all, she'd had a horrible morning, barely eaten, and had been on edge for the entire day. Perhaps what she'd believed was her intuition was really an ugly ball of fear and stress, and she had simply made herself sick. Maybe she really did need to take a vacation, get out of town for a couple of days. Maybe Stacy was right. Maybe she was overworking herself.

As she touched the handle of her apartment door, it shocked her. Daniella wrung her hand from the zing of static electricity and tried again, her fingers still tingling from the jolt. This time, the handle moved and she entered her home. Yet, instead of feeling relief, a fresh wave of dizziness hit her so hard that she rushed towards the half bathroom in case she was going to hurl. Her body stopped mid-motion, held back by something she couldn't comprehend. She tried again to move forward, to no avail.

Someone chuckled behind her, and her hair stood on end.

"Oh, Daniella, I'm not going to let you get away that easily. I have to punish you for making me wait."