“If you believe nothing else I say,” I continued, “believe this — you’re safe here.”
She nodded again. “I know.”
That shouldn’t have felt like a punch to the ribs, but it did.
“And before you ask,” I added.
She tilted her head. “Before I ask what?”
“I wasn’t sitting there watching you like some creep,” I said. “The cameras were on entry points. Doors. Windows. Anywhere someone could get in or out.”
I held her gaze.
“I needed to know if someone came for you.”
That was the truth.
I didn’t tell her about the moments I lingered longer than I should have. I didn’t tell her about the way I memorized the way she moved.
She studied me for a long second, like she was deciding whether to believe that version of me.
“Okay,” she said finally.
I blinked. “Okay?”
“It makes sense,” she said. “If someone broke in, you’d want to see it.”
Relief moved through me before I could stop it.
“Yeah,” I muttered.
She turned toward the horizon, quiet now.
“Is my father okay?” she asked.
Shit.
“Yeah,” I said quickly. “He’s fine. He’s not even in town.”
Her head snapped toward me. “What?”
“The facility took them on a weekend trip,” I explained. “Grand Canyon. You didn’t know?”
Something flickered across her face — shame, maybe — before she looked back toward the sunrise.
“I’m glad he’s not here for this,” she said softly.
I wanted to ask why she hadn’t known.
But the yawn that split her jaw wide made the decision for me.
“We should get you inside,” I said. “You’ve been up all night.”
20
JASMINE
After hearing my father was all right, it was like my body finally checked off all the boxes that meant I could crash. I didn’t remember much after that yawn, only that Ghost led me back inside. I didn’t know much else after my cheek touched down on a cool surface, and I could have sworn I felt someone fluttering a blanket over me.
