I opened my mouth to tell her I wasn’t going anywhere—not until I knew she was safe—but she was already moving. She crawled across the floor and settled between my legs, resting her head against my thigh. Her bandaged hands curled loosely into my shirt. For a long moment, neither of us spoke.
“You worry about me, don’t you?” she whispered.
“Someone has to.”
She tilted her head just enough to press a soft kiss to the inside of my wrist—nothing more. Then she pulled back, putting careful space between us again.
“You should go,” she said quietly. “They check on me sometimes. If they find you here…”
I hated it, but I stood because the fear in her eyes was real. I leaned down and kissed her forehead, lingering one second longer than I should have. “Tomorrow.”
I locked the door behind me and walked back to my room in a fog. The house felt heavier now. More dangerous. And for the first time, I wasn’t sure who was really in control anymore.
Chapter: 11 Chloe
The lock clicked. I didn’t look up. I knew his booted footsteps by now.
“You’re getting bold,” I said, turning a page. “Coming up here in broad daylight.”
“Arthur’s playing golf. The women are shopping.” He closed the door behind him and leaned against it. “I couldn’t deal with them today, so I told them I’m sleeping in.”
I smiled despite myself. He crossed the room slowly, eyes moving from my face to the book in my hands.
“What are you reading?”
“Beloved.”
He sat on the edge of my mattress. “Is it good?”
I looked at him then. The afternoon light softened the hard lines of his jaw. He looked tired.
“It’s devastating,” I said. “And beautiful. And necessary. Relatable.”
His brow furrowed. “Why?”
I closed the book, running my fingers over the worn cover. “A woman named Sethe. She escaped slavery, but the past wouldn’t let her go. It haunted her. She made an impossible choice to protect her children from something worse than death.”
His jaw tightened.
“There’s this thing called rememory,” I continued. “Sethe believed memories weren’t just in your head. They lived in the places where things happened. You could walk past a spot years later and the memory would still be there, waiting to grab you.”
I finally met his eyes.
“This house is full of rememory. The balcony where my mother fell. The door where I watched Olivia move into my room. The kitchen where Caspian first touched me when I was twelve.” My voice cracked. “I’ve been living inside their rememory for fourteen years."
He was quiet for a long moment. Then he reached out, his fingers brushing my chin, tilting my face up. “Nothing is wrong with you, Chloe. Is there?”
“There’s plenty wrong with me,” I said softly. “But nothing I’ve been diagnosed with.”
“What can I do?” he whispered. “Tell me what you need.”
No hesitation. No conditions. Just readiness. I leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. “You can pay my Wi-Fi bill,” I said lightly.
He blinked. “What?”
“So Mary doesn’t have to. She uses her own money to keep my tablet connected. I don’t like that. Could you, please? I’ll be rich one day and pay you back.”
He searched my face. “Chloe, that’s not what I meant.” He seemed so frustrated.
