I hesitate. Because I could lie, but they know me too well.
“He wanted information,” I admit finally.
The shift in the room is immediate, subtle but there. Scott’s expression tightens. Jett sits up straighter. Even Alice’s smile fades.
“…About the fire?” Scott asks.
“About the neighborhood,” I say. “Patterns. What I’ve seen.”
Jett exhales slowly. “Yeah. That tracks.”
Alice sets her cup back down. “Liv-”
“I know,” I cut in dismissively. “I know how it sounds.”
“It sounds like he’s using you,” she professes plainly.
I shrug, even though it doesn’t feel casual. “He’s a detective. That’s literally his job.”
“That doesn’t mean you have to make it easy for him,” Scott insists.
I look at him. “And what was I supposed to do?” I ask. “Lie? Pretend I haven’t noticed things?”
“No,” he attests calmly. “But there’s a difference between answering questions and getting involved.”
“I’m not involved.”
Silence stretches across the table for an uncomfortably long amount of time until Jett breaks it with a quiet laugh. “You keep telling yourself that.”
I glare at him.
“I’m serious,” he adds, leaning forward now. “Liv, this isn’t small-time stuff. What came out of that fire? That’s organized. That’s long-term. It’s dangerous. And he’s practically outing you as a narc by hanging around your apartment.”
“I know that,” I snap, taking itwaytoo personally.
“Do you?” Alice asks softly.
It hits differently in her sweet voice. Because I do know. I just… “I’m not doing anything illegal,” I say instead.
Scott sighs. “Legality isn’t the issue.”
“Then what is it? Because there’s no reason for anyone in the neighborhood to thinkI’ma narc. He’s coming into my building. No one’s seen him come into my apartment.”
He meets my eyes. “Proximity.”
My mouth pops open, ready to argue, but he’s right. It’s not about whether he’s seen in my apartment. We’re both emergency services; we’re lumped together in the public’s eye.
The word, proximity, settles heavily in my chest.
“I can handle myself,” I say, quieter now. Trying to convince myself as much as them.
“I know you can,” he replies immediately. “That’s not the point.”
“Then what is the point, Scott?”
Tension coils in his jaw. “The point is,” he says, “you don’t see how far in you already are.”
I look away because I don’t have a good response to that.
