“What is it?” I ask, my voice too loud in the silence.
Damon raises a hand, a silent request for me to stay quiet, and tilts his head toward the hall.
“Motion sensor,” he says, his tone clipped. He moves toward the door, his hand brushing his side like he’s ready to reach for a weapon.
My pulse jumps. “Should we?—”
“Probably just a cat,” he cuts in, but the rigid way he holds himself says he doesn’t believe that. “Stay here with the girls.”
“Girls, why don’t you finish setting up your lookout squad?” I suggest.
Emma pauses, her unicorn dangling from one hand. “Are there bad guys, Mommy?”
“No, sweetie,” I say quickly, forcing a smile. “We’re just being extra careful.”
“Mia, we’ll keep you safe,” Damon says. “I’ll check the cameras, and we’ll talk after. And—” he gestures vaguely toward the house, his voice lowering even further, “—this can’t be a permanent solution. I promise you this isn’t how things end.”
He’s gone before I can answer. I rub my arms, trying to shake off the chill. Damon carries himself like he knows how this will all play out, like he’s prepared for every possibility.
I wish I could borrow even a fraction of that certainty. The girls don’t need to see me like this, all wound up and second-guessing everything. They need me to be strong.
I head into my bedroom, and sit down on my bed. Then Zane’s voice crackles through the radio. “A coyote tripped off the sensor. Big one. False alarm.”
Relief hits hard. We’re fine, there’s nothing to worry about. But that did little to ease the knot in my stomach.
A vibration from my phone pulls me from the haze of anxiety. I glance at the screen and see Sheila’s name. Her text reads:
Everything okay? You disappeared from work so fast…
I exhale. Mrs. Meyers is serious about keeping me safe. Sheila obviously has no idea where I am.
How do I explain that I’m in hiding? That Jason is escalating? That my entire world feels like it’s perched on a knife’s edge?
My thumbs hover over the keyboard.
I’m fine. Had to leave early for personal reasons,I type and then delete it. Sheila knows me too well. A vague brush-off like that will only make her worry more.
Finally, I settle on:Things got complicated. I’ll explain soon. Thank you for checking in.
I hit send, hoping it’s enough to hold her off for now. The last thing I want is for her to dig too deeply into what’s going on.
She doesn’t need to be dragged into this mess.
CHAPTER 10
MIA
No matterhow much I try, I find it hard to relax after the girls go to bed. My stomach groans. I didn’t have dinner because I didn’t feel like eating anything, and now my stomach is revolting.
I pause at the sight of Asher standing by the kitchen counter, his sleeves rolled up and a smudge of flour on his wrist. A tray of cookies cools beside him, and another batch is in the oven.
“You bake?” I ask, leaning against the doorframe.
He glances up, grinning as he scrapes dough from a mixing bowl. “The smell helps kids feel at home,” he says, then shrugs. “Also, surveillance is boring without snacks.”
I smile despite myself, stepping closer to the counter. “At midnight?”
“Stress-baking,” he admits. “Everyone’s got their thing.”
