The kitchen that had felt warm and cozy only minutes ago suddenly seemed too visible. Too open. Like the walls had thinned somehow while she wasn’t paying attention.
Each person in this house carried something that had followed Rowan here.
She wrapped both hands around her coffee mug even though it had long gone cold. “I’m sorry.”
The words came out quietly, but the room heard them.
Caleb looked back first. “Rowan?—”
“Don’t.” She shook her head. “We all know this is because of me.”
No one disagreed. That was almost worse.
She looked at the windows again, the knot in her stomach pulling tighter. “I shouldn’t stay here.”
“Don’t you dare.” Naomi’s voice came out sharp, a warning not to argue.
Rowan argued anyway.
“A man with a camera showed up at the gate less than twelve hours after someone shot at Wes and me on a mountain road.”Rowan heard her own voice rising and couldn’t stop it. “What happens when more reporters show up? What if someone posts a picture online and one of the women here gets recognized because of me?”
“That’s enough.”
The firmness in Wes’s voice stopped her cold. She hadn’t expected it—not from him, not right now—and she turned toward him without thinking.
He crossed the kitchen and stopped in front of her, his voice dropping to something quieter but no less certain.
“You didn’t choose any of this. Neither did they.” His eyes held hers. “That means we figure it out together instead of deciding it’s all yours to carry.”
Something in her chest cracked open at the wordtogether.
She looked away before he could see how much that word affected her.
She hadn’t had someone to help her carry her burdens since . . . well, since she left Virginia. And she hadn’t realized how tiresome walking alone could be.
Her mom appeared at her side and covered Rowan’s hand with hers. “Sweetie, we don’t let family shoulder things alone in this house. Never have, never will. That’s not how you were raised, and we’re not going to start now.”
Emotion rose sharp and sudden in Rowan’s throat.
She pressed her lips together and stared at the window, blinking hard.
Before she could pull herself back together enough to respond, Naomi’s phone buzzed on the counter.
She glanced at the screen. “It’s Micah. Excuse me real quick.”
She answered, murmured a few things, and then turned to everyone. “He has an update he thinks you’ll all want to hear.”
Wes stood near the doorway as Naomi set her phone against the fruit bowl and angled the screen toward the table.
Standing was old habit. He rarely sat with his back to a room.
From here he could see everyone at once, including Rowan, who hadn’t touched her breakfast since the reporter arrived.
Sheriff Sutherland’s expression on the other end was serious enough that the last few murmurs of conversation faded on their own.
“Tell me you’ve got good news,” Caleb said.
Sheriff Sutherland’s cheek twitched as if he were holding back a frown. “Depends how you define good.”
