“Yes, ma’am. I live up the road. This place has been vacant for some time.”
He says it like he’s annoyed at me for moving in, like I should feel guilty about it or something. But it’s odd. He’s not outwardly hostile. He’s trying to be friendly, a smile on his lips, but I sense a darkness in him. Or maybe that’s just good ol’ paranoia sticking to me.
Hell, is paranoia a bad thing?
“We’re fine,” I say, reaching behind me to put a hand on Mira.
He looks doubtfully at our stuff littering the driveway. “Are you sure…”
“Is this the part where I tell you my name?”
He smiles, and somehow, that almost pulls a smile from me. I fight my lips back into submission. I don’t want to give this man any ideas.
“Not if you don’t want to,” he says. “I’d just feel like a real jackass if I let you haul all this stuff inside by yourself. The moving company should’ve handled this.”
“Yeah, well, they didn’t,” I say, tone prickly. I raise an eyebrow. “Anything else?”
“Not if you don’t want there to be,” he replies, his voice gruff. “Except—my name’s Rhett. Like I said, I live up the road. If you need anything at all, you let me know.”
“Sure, Rhett, will do.”
He turns, and I suck in a breath, watching as he strides away, his shirt pulled taut between the peaks of his muscular shoulders.
“Tell him to wait, Sissy.”
It takes me a moment to compute what’s just happened.Sissyis what Mira has always called me instead ofsister. It started when she was three, and now, at nine, the habit has stuck… at least, it did until that night. Since then, she’s been almost completely mute, rarely speaking unless she has to.
I turn and look down at her. She stares up at me with her golden eyes, toeing the ground stubbornly. “We need help.”
“We can handle it,” I tell her. “Ican handle it.”
“Let Rhett help us,” she says, making her voice firmer. “We can’t carry all this stuff in by ourselves. And he’s a good person.”
I’m too stunned to respond for a second, first by the fact she’s just spoken more words than she has all week, then by her outraged assertion.He’s a good person…
“How could you possibly know that, huh?”
She shrugs and looks at the ground.
I kneel. Behind me, I hear Rhett’s car door open and close.
“Hey.” I touch Mira’s chin, bringing her gaze to mine. “You know you can talk to me, right? Why do you trust that guy?”
“I… I justdo.” She huffs. “There are goodandbad people, Sissy.”
She stares at me knowingly, forcing me to remember how I’ve been behaving this past year. Trust has been low on my list of priorities, buried deep, something I don’t let myself feel.
“Find the light, Sissy,” she murmurs softly.
That’s a gut punch. My motto used to be: “Findthe light.” That was when I was in love with photography, before the idea of picking up a camera made me sick. There hasn’t been much light lately.
I hear his engine start, the chance almost slipping away.
“Okay, Mira, if you’re sure.”
Her lips curve into a smile. It’s a beautiful, unbelievable miracle. Something I feared I might never see again.
I turn and jog up the road. Rhett sees me coming, kills his engine, and leans out the window. Up close, he’s even morehandsome. His eyes are dark, yes, but with a glint in them. Playfulness? Nope. Interest, curiosity? Closer.
