"Almost two." He begins reassembling the gun. "You needed the rest."
Five hours. I've been asleep for five hours. Panic flutters in my chest as I realize Devin will be home from work in four hours, expecting dinner on the table. Expecting me to be there.
"I should call the school," I say, reaching for my phone before realizing I don't know where it is. "Let them know I won't be in Monday."
"Already taken care of." Tyler clicks the last piece of the gun into place, checks the chamber, and sets it on the table. "Called the principal, told her you had a family emergency. She said to take all the time you need."
"You... what? How?" I'm caught between gratitude and indignation. "That's my job, Tyler. My responsibility."
"You needed to sleep. I handled it." He shrugs like it's nothing. "I just used your phone, said I was your cousin. Simple."
"And she believed you?" Principal Wells is notoriously suspicious.
A small smile, the first I've seen since he arrived, touches his lips. "I can be convincing when I need to be."
I should be angry at him for overstepping, but all I feel is relief. One less thing to worry about. "Thank you."
He nods once, accepting my gratitude without comment. "Are you hungry? I picked up some sandwiches while you were asleep."
My stomach growls in response, and I realize I can't remember the last time I ate. Devin had been angry at dinner yesterday, and I'd been too afraid to eat more than a few bites.
Tyler retrieves a paper bag from the small refrigerator and hands me a wrapped sandwich. Turkey and swiss with extra pickles—my favorite from the deli downtown. He remembers.
We eat in silence for a few minutes. I'm surprised by how ravenous I am, finishing the sandwich in record time. Tyler wordlessly passes me a bottle of water, watching me with those observant eyes that seem to miss nothing.
"So, what happens now?" I ask after draining half the bottle.
"Now we talk about Devin." Tyler's voice hardens on the name. "I need to know everything. How it started. How bad it's gotten. How often. All of it."
My appetite vanishes instantly. Talking about Devin means admitting how stupid I've been. How weak. How I stayed even after the first time he shoved me into a wall. Even after the first slap. Even after it all got worse and worse.
"Liv." Tyler's voice gentles. "I'm not here to judge you. I just need to understand what we're dealing with."
I take a deep breath. "It started about a year ago. Little things at first. Grabbing my arm too hard. Calling me names. Getting angry if I spent time with friends." I stare at the empty sandwich wrapper. "I thought it was stress. His business was struggling. I thought I could help him through it."
Tyler doesn't interrupt, just watches me with an intensity that would be unnerving if I didn't know him.
"The first time he hit me was after Marissa's wedding. Remember her from high school? She got married last summer." I'm rambling, avoiding the point, but Tyler just nods patiently. "He said I was flirting with one of the groomsmen. I wasn't, but he was convinced. When we got home, he slapped me."
My hand rises unconsciously to my cheek, remembering.
"He apologized immediately. Cried. Said it would never happen again." I laugh bitterly. "I believed him. That's the stupid part. I actually believed him."
"It's not stupid," Tyler says, his voice low. "It's how they work. They make you believe."
I look up, surprised by his insight. He holds my gaze steadily.
"It got worse after that," I continue. "He started drinking more. Lost some big clients at the shop. Blamed me for everything." I gesture to my face. "This was from Tuesday. I burned dinner."
Tyler's expression doesn't change, but I notice his hand tighten on the water bottle until the plastic crackles.
"Has he ever..." He hesitates, clearly choosing his words carefully. "Has the abuse ever been sexual?"
My face flames with humiliation. That he has to ask this question. That this is what my life has become.
"No," I say quickly. "Not really. I mean, sometimes he wants... when I don't... but he's my boyfriend, so..." I trail off, suddenly uncertain.
Tyler's jaw tightens but he doesn't press. "How often does he hit you now?"
