That life burned hot.
It also left scars I still feel when I’m tired.
I don’t want to go back.
But I don’t want to erase it either. Not after everything I gave to become her.
The text doesn’t ask me to choose. It doesn’t ask me to leave. It doesn’t even say what the job is.
It just asks me to show up.
To talk.
To know.
My thumb hovers.
Then moves.
Delaney: Tomorrow works. Let me know where.
The reply comes almost immediately.
Unknown Number:Perfect. I’ll meet you at the Coyote Cup at 1 p.m. Looking forward to it.
I stare at the words until they blur.
Looking forward.
I lock my phone and set it face down on the bed, like if I can’t see it, it can’t see me back.
My chest feels tight. Conflicted. Like I’ve stepped onto a path without knowing where it leads, only that standing still was starting to feel dishonest.
I lie back against the pillows and stare at the ceiling, listening to the familiar sounds of the ranch settling around me.
I tell myself this doesn’t mean anything yet.
It’s just a conversation.
Just information.
Just a meeting.
But the guilt curls low in my stomach anyway, because part of me already knows this isn’t nothing.
It’s a door.
And tomorrow, I’m going to find out what’s on the other side.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Boone
Sadie eatsher cereal without spilling a drop.
That’s how I know.
She’s careful when she’s trying not to be noticed. Every movement measured. Spoon quiet against the bowl. Elbows tucked in. She’s afraid taking up space will invite trouble.
