“I was watching your back,” I correct. “A distinction you should appreciate, considering you’re still breathing.”
Her eyes shine with a mix of anger and something else. Something like helplessness she doesn’t want me to see.
“What happens now?” she asks through clenched teeth. “Are you going to make me some kind of prisoner?”
“You aren’t a prisoner,” I tell her. “But I’m having your things brought over. I’d like you to stay here until the threat is neutralized.”
“I’m not moving in with you,” she says abruptly. “Absolutely not.”
“It’s not a question,” I say evenly.
Her jaw drops. “Are you serious?”
“Yes.”
“Unbelievable,” she mutters, turning away before spinning right back, because apparently she is incapable of ending an argument where it should end. “I’m not letting you lock me up in your tower like I’m Rapunzel.”
“If Rapunzel were being hunted, the tower would have been a wise choice.”
“That’s certainly one way to look at the story,” she fumes. “But I bet Rapunzel would have liked to be asked.”
“Well, her life wasn’t in imminent danger.” I shrug. “I’ve seen enough situations like this to know that it usually ends badly. I’m not arguing about this.”
She glares like she wants to claw my eyes out. “You don’t get to control me.”
“I’m trying to keep you alive.”
She opens her mouth, then closes it. Her hands shake slightly. She wraps her arms around herself, defensive, hurting, furious.
“Please don’t do this,” she whispers.
Her voice cracks again on the words, and something in me twists painfully. I know what that crack means. I’ve heard it in other people’s voices. People who endured things they never speak of. People who grew up in cages, even if they had no bars.
I lower my voice. “I’m just trying to protect you.”
She looks away, blinking rapidly. “It feels an awful lot like being trapped.”
The words hit harder than I expect.
I step aside, gesturing for her to follow me down the hallway. To my surprise, she does. We walk for a moment before stopping in front of her room.
“This is the guestroom,” I tell her. “The door locks from the inside. You’re free to go anywhere in the apartment, but I don’t want you leaving.”
She scowls. “So itisa tower.”
“A well-furnished one.”
“That’s not funny.”
I stay silent because I’ve already pushed her too far. She storms into the guestroom without looking back at me. The door slams shut.
For a moment I stand there, staring at the wood, listening to my own heartbeat.
Then I hear the quiet sobs.
I wait a moment, then knock once. “Molly.”
“Go away.”
