I gulp. Look at Annabelle’s house and then back at him. “Thank you. For asking. I’ll… I think it’s a good offer. Can I have a few hours to think and see what the situation might be here?”
“Course you can. You don’t even got to tell me today. Just think about it. You’re good at keeping a house. Your food is the best I’ve ever tasted. And you seem… easy to get along with. I think we can make it work.” He takes an odd shaky breath. “If you want.”
“Thank you,” I say again, more excited than I can remember being since my mother walked out. “I really appreciate the offer. I’ll let you know as soon as I can.”
“Okay,” he mumbles. “You go on. I’ll wait here to make sure someone answers before I leave.”
Nodding, I take a deep breath and brave the front walk to the door. There’s a knocker, so I knock it.
I glance back over my shoulder at Mason. He’s still waiting there near the street, holding on to his cart of cheese.
Then the door opens and Annabelle is standing in front of me. As tiny and beautiful and clever and sharp as she always was. Her face brightens when she sees me. “Teresa! You have no idea how much I needed to see you right now!”
I’m waving back at Mason as Annabelle pulls me into a hug.
4
An hour and a half later,I’m sitting with Annabelle in her neighborhood café.
Because she and her husband live on an upscale street, the café is nicer than any eating establishment I’ve ever visited before. There are both indoor and outdoor tables, and the food on the daily menu is fresh and well prepared.
I enjoy every bite of my egg pastry, sliced fruit, and rolled cheese and ham.
The news from Annabelle, however, is less good.
She’s never been a complainer. She always got angry at large injustices rather than personal slights. But it’s clear from her dry, matter-of-fact answers to my questions that her situation here isn’t to be envied.
Her husband isn’t a kind man. And despite her comfortable lifestyle, she has even fewer freedoms now than I do.
I was already tempted by Mason’s offer, but after talking to Annabelle for less than an hour, the best decision for my life is now entirely clear.
“I’ve asked him,” Annabelle says, stirring the last of her fruit on her plate, “over and over again if you can come stay with us. We have two extra rooms. He works most of the time, so he’d barely ever have to see you. But he always says no.”
“That’s okay,” I murmur, something softening in my chest at the realization that she hasn’t forgotten about me, that she’s tried to help me in the only way she could, that she never truly left me behind the way it sometimes felt.
I assumed she wouldn’t. She loves me, and we’ve always been close. But there’s knowing, and then there’sknowing.
It’s good toknow.
“You tried.”
Annabelle’s long, thick hair is bound loosely in an elegant roll at the nape of her neck, but she fidgets like it annoys her. “I’d do more if I could, but I have no credits of my own. I can only spend what he allows me. And he’s got this big old shadow following me around.”
I straighten as she gestures behind her toward a large man who’s been standing against a wall in the café since shortly after we arrived. I barely noticed him before, and I didn’t realize anything was strange about him lingering there without purpose because everything about the Capitol feels strange to me.
“Who is he?” I ask, meeting the man’s eyes without thinking through whether I should be subtle about it.
The man is good-looking and plainly dressed. He holds my gaze with bland interest, like he’s wondering why I’m staring at him but not particularly concerned about it.
“Ben. He’s my muscle.” Annabelle turns her head to give the man an impatient glare, but he responds with nothing more than a barely perceptible wink. “Chad hired him after he got his latest promotion. He says it’s because his position is more important now so I might be a target, but I think he’s afraid I’ll get in trouble or embarrass him. So Ben trails around after me everywhere I go.”
“Has he ever had to actually protect you?”
“Once I was taking a walk to get out of the house and I got lost. I had to ask him how to get back home.” She shakes her head with a familiar indomitable spark in her eyes. “Let me tell you, that was mortifying.”
I snicker. “Did he lecture you?”
“No. He never lectures. He never says anything unless I ask a question. Exceptyes, ma’am. He’s from the wilderness, you know.”
