Just a hair.
“She cried for two hours straight in winter traffic in a goddamn rideshare,” she says quietly.“She shouldn’t have had to do that.I’ve known her for years, since we started working at school together, and I’ve never seen her like this.
“I should’ve been there.”
“Damn right you should’ve.”
I look at the door, then back at her.
“Please.Just let me talk to her.Let me apologize.I-I don’t care if she slams the door in my face.I just need her to know I’m here.”
Mary hesitates.
Then exhales, stepping aside.
“One wrong word, and I break your kneecaps,” she mutters.
“Fair.”
She turns and calls back inside, voice gentle.
“Hey, Sabrina?You’ve got a visitor.”
I step through the doorway, every nerve on fire, heart beating like war drums.
And there she is.
On the couch.
Wrapped in a blanket, hair a mess, eyes wide and wet and shocked.
Like she’s not sure if I’m real or a ghost.
“Angel,” I whisper, my throat tight.“I’m so sorry.”
The room goes painfully still while she decides if I even deserve another word from her.
Please.
Please, Angel, say something.Anything.
My thoughts are screaming, but I don’t move.I don’t push.I’ve done enough damage already.
Somewhere behind me, I hear Kai and Mary whispering near the door.
Mary sounds like she’s verbally eviscerating him, and honestly?I’m positive my asshole twin deserves it.
But I don’t care.Not right now.
Not about anyone except the woman sitting in front of me wrapped in a blanket like the world’s been too damn cruel.
And it has.
“What—what are you doing here, Theo?”she asks softly.
“Well, I thought Marco might?—”
“Marco?He’s a confidential informant for the FBI, apparently.But so what?Were you worried?Ha.”
