I froze. “The note?”
“There was a note tied to the brick with a Bible verse about purification, something about contamination of body and spirit. I’m sorry, I assumed you saw it.”
For a second, I forgot that my parents were somewhere across the world and experienced a moment of absolute terror. It faded as quickly as it hit, but there were plenty of members of my parents’ church who might have taken up the baton of ensuring I didn’t succeed in a business venture that might contaminate them all.
Members of mybrother’schurch.
He’d found my phone number all those years ago when he called me—who was to say he hadn’t found out the rest in the time since?
“Yes, I’m the target. Shit, shit, shit,” I wheezed.
“Easy, easy. That brick didn’t go through your shop window, Eden.”
“No, but itwasthe window I was standing in front of. No one else in Milo’s store was even visible. The displays blocked the game table. Milo was over by them when it happened, but I was standing by the window.”
“Is there a reason you think you’re the target, aside from that flier?”
I bit my lip, then nodded. “I grew up in a very strict church, the kind that doesn’t approve of a woman owning a business, much less one like mine.”
Her expression was gentle, but her gaze was sharp. “I understand your family isn’t local, is that right?”
“Yes. But it’s not like they’re far away. I mean, my parents are on another continent, but we just found out my brother tookover their branch of the church. He’s the pastor there now, in Binghamton.”
“Let’s not jump to conclusions, okay? Can you give me his name and the name of the church? We’ll look into any possible connection and you can focus on getting some rest.”
Shakily, I gave her the information and watched her scribble it on a tiny pad of paper. She stayed silent, but my brain launched into warpspeed. Milo’s shop had been vandalized because ofme.Someone else could have been hurt because ofme.
The past I’d fought so hard to free myself from was rising up to hurt the people I loved.
Oh, god. I love him.
The realization wasn’t warm or fuzzy; it was edged in sheer panic. Milo could have been hurt, killed even, if he’d still been standing at my side, whispering into my ear, when those headlights landed on me.
“Eden,” Hanson said, her voice firm and authoritative. “What happened is not your fault.”
I closed my eyes, nodding even though she was dead wrong. “Do you need anything else from me?”
“Not right now. I’ll be in touch if anything else comes up, and here’s my card. I want you to call me directly if you see or hear anything else even remotely out of the ordinary.”
“Okay,” I whispered, taking the card with my bandaged left hand.
Hanson stared hard at me for another minute before she rose to her feet and left the clinic. I sat in the silent waiting room,staring out the glass front doors into the night, until eventually Milo poked his head out of the exam room and saw that Hanson was gone.
“Hey, everything okay?”
I didn’t look at him—I couldn’t. “I’d like to go home now.”
Milo sat in the chair beside me, wrapping his fingers around my uninjured hand. “Eden, hey, are you all right?”
“Please,” I whispered. “Can you or your mom drop me at my apartment before you go back to the store?”
Hurt and alarm mingled in his handsome face, darkening his eyes as they scanned my features. He lifted his free hand to my cheek and swept his thumb just below the tiny cut under my eye.
“Don’t shut me out, Eden. Not again. Please.”
His voice sounded wrecked and I almost gave in, but this was for his own safety. Guilt and fear pulsed through my veins as I tried to summon an excuse that would inflict the least amount of pain while still keeping him protected—away from me—for the time being.
Nothing came to mind, so I said, “I just need to be in my own space for a bit.”
