And perfect in a way that frightened her more than it thrilled.
Because perfection felt like hope, and hope was a door she’d closed for good reason.
Isaac had taught her that. Loving someone who wasn’t who he pretended to be had carved something deep in her, something cautious. Something still healing.
A part of her longed to step closer.
Another part whispered retreat.
She took a deep breath, steadying herself against the uninvited emotions—emotions she had absolutely no idea what to do with.
Then she wet her lips, a confession on the tip of her tongue. “I should probably tell you something.”
“What’s that?”
“I almost said no to this interview, but Miranda convinced me I should do it. She said you were a good journalist. But the truth is that I haven’t trusted reporters for a long time.”
Luke’s eyebrows lifted, concern flickering in his eyes. “Really? Why is that?”
She blew out a breath before starting. “Three years ago, a journalist contacted me about a story concerning someone I knew who died in a tragic car accident. I believed she really wanted the truth about what had happened. Instead, she twisted everything I said and made it sound like I was blaming my friend.”
“Why would she do that?”
“My friend’s parents were very influential in the community. His mom was on the school board, and his dad ran a nonprofit. I really think she wanted to do a hit piece on them, and she used me to do so. Still to this day, his parents won’t talk to me. They believed I really said the things she wrote and that I blamed him for the accident.”
“That’s terrible.”
“I called the newspaper and demanded a retraction,” Amayah continued. “They refused. I was at a pretty low point at that time, and I lost the energy to fight . . . mostly.”
“Mostly?”
“Not long ago, I decided I shouldn’t have dropped it, and this reporter shouldn’t have gotten away with what she did. So I made a stink about it. She ended up losing her job.” She blew out another breath. “At times, I wondered if that was too harsh. But there are consequences to our decisions. I didn’t want her to do that to someone else also.”
Luke’s jaw tightened. “Amayah . . . I’m so sorry. I can understand why you wouldn’t trust me.”
“That’s just it.” She looked up at him. “I didn’t trust you. Not at first. But you’re . . . different.” Her voice softened. “You actually listen. You see people. I didn’t expect that. I didn’t expect you.”
Emotion tightened his features. “I don’t ever want to be another person who hurts you.”
She shook her head gently. “You’re not.”
For a moment, neither of them moved. The air between them felt warm despite the cold.
“Amayah, I?—”
Before he could finish, something shifted in her peripheral vision.
A figure near the stairwell.
Her heart jerked violently.
For a single breathless moment, she knew it washimagain.
He had the same outline. The same eerie stillness that seemed to sense her before she sensed it.
It was the man who’d been following her.
He was here.
