“How would she know that name?”
“I don’t know,” Harper said. “That’s what’s scaring me.”
Scaring.
Not frustrating.
Not irritating.
Scaring.
My mind raced.
Had Cassian told her?
No.
He didn’t play that way.
He was precise.
Calculated.
If my mother knew his name, it wasn’t an accident.
“Did she sound angry?” I asked.
“No. She sounded … unsettled.”
That was worse.
Harper lowered her voice.
“Lia. Are you safe?”
The question landed harder than anything Cassian had said in the last forty-eight hours.
Safe.
“Yes,” I said.
And for the first time in my life, I meant it in a way that had nothing to do with comfort.
I meant it in the way prey feels safe because the predator has chosen not to strike.
Harper was quiet for a long moment.
“I need you to promise me something,” she said.
“What?”
“If this stops being something you want … you leave.”
My throat tightened.
“I will.”
“Swear.”
