I should get it. Open it. Face whatever's coming.
Instead, I pull the blanket tighter, my gaze fixed on Poppy's monitor. Her gentle breathing, in and out.
The blanket is heavy across my legs. Real weight, real texture, the soft pilling of fabric I've had for three years. The baby monitor glows green on the table, Poppy’s little body resting peacefully on the screen.
"I am in my apartment. The door is locked. Poppy is sleeping. Elliot is not here."
I say it once, quiet, to no one. Then I pull the blanket higher and continue my breath work until my heartbeat steadies.
Tomorrow, I tell myself.
But the lie tastes bitter, even to myself. The calls will keep coming. The dark sedan will circle back. The envelope will wait, its contents no less dangerous for being unread.
For tonight, though, I've bought myself a few more hours of pretending. A few more hours of this fragile peace we've built.It's not real safety, just the illusion of it. But sometimes the illusion is all that keeps me functioning.
I close my eyes, knowing sleep won't come easily. Not with Elliot's voice still echoing in my head.
Remember this moment, Sadie.
As if I could forget. As if I've known a single moment of true peace since.
Chapter 6
Axel
“So, café stop again today? Your regular?” Trent asks, eyes dancing with that shit-eating grin as I grab a beer.
I keep my face neutral. “It’s just coffee.”
“Right. Coffee.” He snorts.
I sip my beer, scanning the chaos, pots steaming, my aunt’s pot roast scent mingling with laughter. I’d hoped to stay invisible tonight. No dice.
Tyler glances up from setting out forks. “Yesterday wasn’t enough?”
I snag a handful of silverware. “Did anyone catch the game?”
Adrienne, tossing a salad, points a tong. “Don’t dodge it. You’ve got that look.”
“What look? This one?” I touch my face.
“Plotting,” she says. “Like that time you nearly blew Aunt Celeste’s surprise Willie Nelson party.”
Trent howls. “Twelve hours before the big reveal!”
“Or Christmas, when you told Mom about the watch before she opened it,” Tyler adds.
Scotty raises his beer. “And half the town knew about my promotion before I did.”
I hold up empty hands. “Fine. I get excited. Sue me.”
They laugh and lean in for more. I fire back a zinger, but the punch lines land flat. My mind drifts to Sadie: the way she guards her café, the tremor in her voice when she saw that stranger’s sedan. She shields her daughter like vault walls for a secret, her trust sacred. If she heard me treating people’s lives like punch lines, she’d never trust me again.
“Earth to Axel.” Tyler waves a hand. “You with us?”
I blink. “Yeah, just thinking.”
“That’s dangerous,” Trent teases, but his eyes soften. “You okay?”
