Graham nodded, though he wasn’t looking at her, or the man who’d spoken. He was staring at the nervous young guy with the darting gaze—the one I couldn’t place but seemed familiar.
But then he blinked, and his eyes shifted toward Mara. “Yes. That’s correct.” Graham’s voice softened. “And she’s here because she wants to be supportive of you all. She—” He hesitated, glancing at me. “She has a story of her own you might understand better than you think.”
My heart stumbled over itself.
A woman across from me curled her lip. I didn’t know anyone’s names. We hadn’t even gotten to introductions. “I don’t really want to hear what she has to say.”
Graham tried to soothe her gently, but she shook her head, crossing her arms.
The first man spoke again, his voice like acid. “I wouldn’t be surprised if she helped him escape.”
I went rigid. The sneering woman’s face paled.
“Hey,” Graham said sharply, sitting forward. He was still calm, but firm. “She had nothing to do with that.”
That silenced a few people, but not for long.
Murmurs started. Not even full words at first, just fearful, angry tones. The kind of whispers I’d grown up with. The kind I knew too well.
The basement seemed to shrink around me, pressing in with every muttered accusation.
Graham’s posture sharpened. “Stop. All of you.” A muscle jumped in his jaw. “She is not your enemy.”
But it didn’t matter. They weren’t looking at Graham. They were looking at me.
Like I was something poisonous that had leaked into their safe space.
The nervous guy dropped his gaze the second I met his eyes. The woman who’d curled her lip earlier now stared openly, her disgust carved into her expression. Mara watched me with a look of sympathy.
My chest went tight.
It didn’t matter what I did or where I went. I was always…other. Always tainted.
Graham turned toward me, his hand reaching for mine. “Quinn—”
I shook my head. I wanted to give him a reassuring smile, but I couldn’t.
“It’s okay,” I said, voice soft. “I can wait upstairs.”
Fingers curled around mine, gripping tight. “You can stay.”
“No. I can’t.”
The truth sat heavy on me. This wasn’t my space. I didn’t belong here.
Not with these survivors whose pain was fresh and festering—not when they looked at me and saw the monster who’d nearly destroyed their lives. I had known I might not be able to stay; I just hadn’t expected to be blamed for his escape. Again.
I gently pulled my hand from his.
Without another word, I rose from the chair.
The circle parted slightly, scooting their chairs apart like I was something contagious. I walked through the gap without letting myself look at anyone.
My steps echoed too loudly on the concrete floor.
I could feel Graham’s gaze burning into my back.
As I climbed the stairs up to the stacks of the library, I told myself that it was fine. It was a normal reaction from them to reject me. Graham had warned me.
