Chapter 11

He didn’t really expect to sleep. Everything was a little unreal—this place, these people. He missed the apartment in New York. It hadn’t been big, but he and Nick had put a lot of effort into making it nice. It was one of the things Andy had liked about Nick, actually—that their tastes had been so similar, that they both took pride in their living space. The bed had been the biggest one they’d been able to fit into their tiny bedroom, the mattress the nicest they’d been able to afford, soft and warm.Andy missed that bed.

He shouldn’t miss Nick. He knew he shouldn’t. But it was too dark and too quiet—which only made the few noises seem louder—and he was in an unfamiliar place, surrounded by strangers with unknown motivations, and it was hard to forget that it was ten miles to the nearest bus stop. Andy felt like a changeling in a fairytale, like he’d come into a strange world, not entirely human, an unwanted replacement for the one who actually belonged here.