“He’s already left. You can talk to him when he’s back on shift.”
“Do you have his number? I can call him. It’s not kind to be so short-tempered. I wouldn’t want him to worry about it.”
“He won’t. Trust me, he’s fine.”
She applied mayo to a slice of bread like her life depended on it. “Okay. Thank you.”
“Why don’t you let me make the sandwiches?” Jia asked. “It’s basically the one meal I can handle.”
She gave Jia a halfhearted smile. “No, it’s fine. Jas, is grilled cheese okay?”
“I— Fine.”
“I make it with mayo, you know. That’s the secret.” She pulled out a pan and placed it on the stove. “The mayo has a high fat content and crisps the bread. It works better than butter.”
A small meow distracted her and she glanced at her feet, startled. “Zeus.” She pressed her fingers against her lips. “I’m so sorry. I completely forgot about you today.” She bent over and petted the cat. “How could I do that?”
“She’s a cat,” Jia said. “She’s probably thrilled you forgot her for a day.”
She smoothed her hand along her kitten’s back. “What a terrible cat stereotype. Zeus loves me.” Ah, there it was. A thawing of the numbness, the prickle of tears behind her eyes.
I love you, Katrina. This is all for your own good.
Katrina straightened. Her breath was coming faster, the floor wavering in her vision, her head aching.
This is your kitchen. You are safe.
“I need some air,” she managed, and the next thing she knew, she was outside, damp grass under her butt, sucking in great gulps of precious oxygen.
Jas crouched in front of her, his no-nonsense voice cutting through her panic. “Name five things.”
She closed her eyes, and opened them again. This was one of her handiest coping mechanisms. Five things she could see or hear or touch. “The grass.” It was cold.
“What else?”
“The moon. The flowers.” Jas took care of her garden, he had since they’d moved in. It was a work of art, filled withdark greenery and bright flowers, a colorful paradise. She’d told him he didn’t need to do that, it wasn’t in his job description, but he hadn’t listened. So she’d quietly increased his retirement plan contribution.
“Two more.”
She swallowed, tasting the ash of fear, but her heartbeat was returning to normal. She came to her knees. “Smoke. Trees.”
“Good.” He inhaled and exhaled slowly, and she matched his breathing without thinking.
Jia knelt next to her. “Here, drink this.”
Katrina accepted the water. “The stove—”
“You never turned it on.” Jia sat cross-legged. A flash of embarrassment ran through Katrina at Jia witnessing this, but she swallowed it. Though she wasn’t prepared to share her issues with everyone, when Jia had come to live with her Katrina had told her what to expect. This had, frankly, been nothing.
She shuddered, though the cool air was nice. She took a sip of the water, letting it wet her parched throat.
Jia leaned against her side, giving her comfort. “Do you want to go back inside?”
Katrina looked at the house. It had been her haven for so long, the place where she’d felt safe and sound.
This wasn’t about the house. This was about her identity. She’d had no idea how much safety she’d derived in staying anonymous. “I’ll stay out here for a moment, thanks.”
Jas also joined them on the ground. He was dressed in crisp dark jeans and a gray Henley, the lines of his beardextra sharp. Had he gone somewhere today? She vaguely recalled Gerald delivering a message in the afternoon that Jas would be absent until later in the evening, but she’d been too preoccupied to pay attention, even to news about Jas.
