She’d always worried, but it was worse since they moved in together. Coming home to see the blue light of the computers glowing through the windows of the room KC used as her office made Yardley sick with fear. There were woods in the back. Anyone could see in and know KC was alone, wearing headphones, distracted. Who was going to protect KC when Yardley was out protecting the world?
She reached across the table to tap Atlas’s ring. “How do you do it?”
Atlas lifted their hand up with a small smile and rubbed the ring with their thumb. “Slow. With a soundtrack.”
Yardley snorted.
Atlas put their elbows on the table, leaning in. “Do you have something you need to get off your chest before this mission?”
Yardley received the very faint implied rebuke in Atlas’s question. Her head was not in the game.
“Nothing I didn’t bring on myself,” she said. “You know I never thought of any other choice than to do this work since I was a preschooler begging for one more spy story on my granddaddy’s knee. It’s just… Have I ever told you my Nana Nancy divorced him?”
Atlas shook their head.
“It was after he got declassified. She learned the truth about where he’d been going all those years and kicked him right out. Hired a crackerjack divorce attorney, took half the savings, and kept the house besides.”
Yardley paused to unfasten the clip on the slim gold watch KC had given her, loosening the band so she could flip it around her wrist.
Out of all the mistakes she’d made, one of the biggest had been to take KC with her to North Carolina. In that world, among everything and everyone Yardley loved, she’d listened too hard to her heart, bonging with recognition, telling her KC was her person. Her home.
Drunk on that feeling, Yardley didn’t hesitate to accept when KC presented her with her mother’s gold watch and a key to her house, but she also didn’t tell KC that what she really yearned for was a ring, forever, and to give KC every part of herself.
Yardley could have a watch. She couldn’t have a wife.
“When I asked my granddaddy about that time in his life,” she told Atlas, “the only thing he could say for himself was, ‘I kept her safe.’ He told me that, and I felt something I couldn’t put a label on.” She closed her eyes. “Admiration for his patriotic sacrifice, mostly. But then I asked my nan to give me her side of the story, and she said, ‘Every time your granddaddy left town on business, he took off his wedding ring and left it on a dish on top of the bureau. I thought he had a second family in Atlanta. I was convinced he had a different ring, one his other wife had given him, and he wore that when he was with her.’”
“Aren’t they married, though?” Atlas asked. “Your grandparents.”
“That’s right.” Yardley fastened the watch back onto her wrist. “She let the ink dry on their divorce agreement, and then she invited him to stop by sometime for a glass of tea. She made him sit in her wicker chair and drink sweet tea and prove to her there’d been more to their marriage than her loyalty and his lies.” She met Atlas’s eyes and smiled. “A year later, they got married again, only this time she made him pay for a wedding at the Biltmore, and if you don’t know what all that means, I’m not sure how I could explain it to you.”
Atlas laughed. “My people are from southern Georgia. I know what that means.”
“They are? You don’t even have an accent!”
“I’m a spy,” they deadpanned. “But Marla sees the real me.” Their accent rolled out like a pearl from a fresh bay oyster, and one of the knots in Yardley’s middle loosened at the connection to her handler.
She’d hoped it would be enough to share a house with KC, even if it wasn’t the life she wanted, but it only created more distancebetween them. It got harder to tell KC what she felt. Yardley’s solution was to pretend as hard as she could that everything was okay.
It turned outthatwas the lie that swamped their emotional intimacy so utterly, it broke her heart.
And no matter what she did, there was nothing to fix the fact that if she’d ever told KC the truth and demanded what she dreamed of, she’d be putting the woman she loved in danger for the rest of her life.
“Thank you for understanding,” she told Atlas. “And for listening.” She stood to leave. Her entire body was sore with feelings, like one word or noise could make her cry. “I should get downstairs.”
“You know, Whitmer.” Atlas gave her a small smile. “Secrets aren’t the only way to keep a person safe. There are ways to share this work with a family or a partner. They aren’t easy. There are no guarantees. But my mama lost her husband, my dad, when she was only thirty-nine, and he was a schoolteacher.Lifeisn’t safe. You understand?”
Yardley nodded, swallowing back tears. She understood that Atlas was a kind person and an excellent mentor. Maybe if she’d had this talk a few months ago. A year ago.
But the doc had already called this one. She and KC were beyond help.
Yardley’s New York driver’s license was still warm when she stepped into the sleek black Lincoln.
Her gray trousers were tight, the tech disguised as a push-up bra taking the girls up and over, and her gray suit jacket was a puff-sleeved, lace-appliqued confection. The wig she’d been given was so high, it was kissing angels, and frosted besides. There wasno chance she would blend in at a Capitol Hill Starbucks full of black cashmere sweaters and designer strollers.
But she was pretty sure that was the point.
Her driver pulled over to the curb. “The van’s a few blocks to the northeast. I’ll be circling, listening on your channel. Should be able to get here in three to five if you need me.”
