“Did you hear what I said?”
I blinked. “I’m sorry. What?”
“We should get you checked out. There’s a doctor in town, or we can take you to the hospital?—”
“No.” The word came out sharper than I intended. “I don’t need a doctor. I need to know Coop is safe.”
Beckett’s eyes found mine in the rearview mirror. The scar cutting through his eyebrow made him look dangerous, but his expression held something closer to understanding.
“Travis is monitoring communications in and out of the compound,” he said. “Digital traffic, searches on Coop’s cover identity. If something goes wrong, we’ll know.”
I wanted to believe him. I wanted to let that certainty quiet the panic clawing at my throat. But if something went wrong, nobody would be able to get there to help Coop.
The rest of the drive passed in fragments. Lark and Beckett talked in the front seat—something about Travis, about federal agents, about someone named Hunter. I caught maybe every third word. My brain kept shorting out, skipping like a scratched record.
“Mia? Did you hear me?”
I jerked. Lark was watching me with that same gentle concern.
“We asked if Pawsitive Connections is okay. For you to stay there.”
Had they asked that before? The words felt familiar, like an echo I couldn’t place.
“Mia?”
“Yes. Sorry. Yes, that’s fine.”
Lark exchanged a glance with Beckett. She turned back to me, opened her mouth like she was going to ask again, then seemed to think better of it.
“We really should get you checked out,” Lark tried once more. “You’re bleeding through your shoes.”
I looked down. She was right. The canvas of my Converses had turned rust-brown where blisters had broken during the climb up the river gorge. I hadn’t even noticed.
“It’s nothing.”
“It’s not nothing.” Lark reached back and squeezed my hand. “But we won’t force you. Just let me take a look when we get there. I’ve got a well-stocked first aid kit.”
I nodded, too tired to argue.
We turned onto a gravel road, and the world opened up. Rolling pastures stretched toward mountains that scraped the sky. White buildings with green trim. Split-rail fences drawing property lines across land that seemed to breathe.
Pawsitive Connections.
Under different circumstances, I would have grabbed my camera. The light was perfect—golden hour painting everything in warm amber. Horses grazing in a distant pasture, their coats gleaming. Dogs running in a fenced yard, tails high.
This was the place Coop had wanted me to see. I just hadn’t expected to see it alone.
We pulled up to a white farmhouse with green trim, and Beckett cut the engine. He was out first, opening my door before I could fumble for the handle.
“Easy,” he said as I climbed out, my legs unsteady beneath me.
Beckett lingered by the vehicle, something uncertain in his expression. “You good here? Audra’s expecting me, but I can stay if?—”
“Go.” Lark waved him off. “I’ve got her. Tell Audra I said hi.”
He nodded, his gaze shifting to me. “The moment we hear anything about Coop, you’ll know.”
I managed a nod. He held my eyes for a moment longer, then headed toward a smaller cabin barely visible through the trees.
