“Yes… but only in the kitchen and towards the entryway.”
“None in the bedroom? Shower?”
“Go lock the door.”
I watched as she appeared on camera, phone to her ear. She turned around slowly, looking directly at me more than once.Then she obeyed, walking to the door and locking both the knob and the deadbolt.
“Happy?”
I sighed in relief. “Good girl.”
She didn’t respond to the praise, but she didn’t hang up either. She turned, phone still to her ear, and walked back toward her bedroom. The soft rustle of her sheets and the muted creak of the bed settling beneath her weight reached him through the speaker. For a long moment, neither of them said anything.
“Are you sleeping in the bedroom tonight?”
“Yeah, just need to stretch out and turn my brain off, I think.”
“Is your window locked?”
“Yeah… I’m going to go back to sleep now,” she said, voice so quiet that he barely heard it. “You’re too paranoid.”
“It’s hard for me to remember how to let something live,” I admitted reluctantly. “I just want to cover all of the bases. Even without an active hit on you,neverleave your door unlocked, please.”
It was insane how killing someone was easier than trying to keep them alive.
She laughed, a breathless and tired sound that was muffled by her pillow. “You’re like a mama bird, and I’m a baby bird.”
I almost laughed at the ridiculous comparison.
“Good night, Halo.”
“Wait,” I interjected, trying to catch her before she hung up.
There was a long pause between us, but I could hear her even breathing on the other end followed by the distant purr of her cat.
“Will you just leave the line open? Just lay the phone beside you.”
“Why?”
“In case anything happens,” I said, but that wasn’t the entire truth, and I thought she could tell.
She didn’t press, just whispered: “Okay.”
I leaned back in my chair, eyes still on the grainy, empty camera feed. I could hear her settle more deeply into the bed, the quiet of her breathing slowly evening out. There was something about the sound that made my chest ache in a way I didn’t fully understand. I put the call on speaker, muting myself as I settled into my own bed, still in the clothes I had worn today. The room around me was silent except for the low hum of my computer and the sound of Eden’s even breaths on the other end of the call.
My lids grew heavy as her breathing stayed soft and steady. I let it lull me, let it fill the empty, echoing space inside my chest. The noise she had left behind in my brain subsided.
It was the first time in years I didn’t fall asleep alone, and I didn’t know what to do with the immense comfort of it.
Chapter nineteen
Eden
“I Found God in a Takeout Box”
Mondaymorning,Isatbehind the counter at Ginger & Black, going down the list of things I thought I might need to buy. The espresso grinder was getting touchy already (that’s what I get for buying refurbished), we were running low on vanilla syrup, and we had just burned through most of our compostable to-go lids. But honestly, it was just a distraction, busywork.
Today was a busy day, almost every table occupied by at least one person. A low murmur of conversation hummed inside. I had been told that people were upset when I didn’t open the day that I went to the rec center. I apologized profusely, but honestly it felt good to be missed.
