My mother made an interested sound. “Oh? Fancy war zone, then.”
“I’m in Charleston,” I reminded them. “Remember? South Carolina. Stateside. No helmets required.”
“Yet,” my father muttered.
“Dad.”
“What?” he said. “You have a talent for finding trouble. I’m just respecting your gifts.”
I rolled my eyes even as my chest warmed. “So far, the only thing trying to kill me is the humidity.”
“How was your event?” Mom asked. “You said there was a gala?”
I leaned back against the headboard, tucking my knees up. “Hot. Crowded. Too many people with too much money. The mayor was there. Her fiancé. A lot of men who looked like they’d rather be holding rifles than champagne flutes.”
“Your type, in other words,” Dad said.
Heat flashed across my face, the remnants of the dream roaring back to life. “They’re not my type.”
My mother hmmed. “They used to be.”
“Yeah, well.” I twisted the edge of the sheet around my finger. “I learned.”
Dad was quiet for a beat, then asked, “This story you’re chasing … it’s safe, right?”
Safe.
I thought of Dominion Hall.
Of missing records and scrubbed searches.
Of the way the air in that ballroom had felt like it was holding its breath.
“It’s stateside,” I hedged. “That’s safer than usual.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
I stared at the shadowed window. “I’ll be careful.”
“You always say that,” Mom said quietly.
“And I’m still here, aren’t I?”
Silence. Then a long exhale.
“You are,” she agreed. “And we are very, very proud of you.”
Something in my chest eased. These were the people who’d raised me in a town where everyone knew everyone else. Where Friday nights meant hockey games and cheap hot chocolate, and Saturdays meant shoveling snow off the porch. Where I’d been the girl who checked too many books out of the library andclipped newspaper articles about wars happening half a world away.
“Sometimes I miss it,” I admitted. “Home, I mean.”
“Come back for a visit,” Dad said. “We’ll take you to the diner. Jean still makes the best pancakes in Ontario.”
I smiled. “I will. Once this story’s done.”
“When will that be?” Mom asked.
“If I’m lucky?” I blew out a breath. “Soon. If I’m not … I don’t know.”
