I blinked. “She’s my kid.”
“That’s not what I said.”
A corner of my mouth lifted. “Yeah.”
That one stuck.
She looked down at the glass in her hand, then back up at me.
“I don’t think I’ve talked to anyone like that in…” She trailed off, then gave a small, dismissive shake of her head. “A while.”
I didn’t fill the silence.
Didn’t fix it.
Just watched her.
She set the glass down, crossed the room, and climbed into the bed like it was already decided.
Then she looked at me. “I’m not asking you to leave.”
There it was again. Not a question. Not soft.
Certain.
I pushed off the table and crossed to her, slower this time. No rush. No edge.
Just… choice.
Sliding into the bed beside her, I felt her shift automatically, fitting against me like there was no adjustment needed.
That should have felt like something to shut down.
It didn’t.
My hand found her waist. Her fingers curled lightly against my chest, no grip this time. No urgency.
Just there.
I stared at the ceiling, listening to her breathing. It was a steady, quiet sound that made the space feel smaller than it was. This was a complication. And I’d just invited it to stay for breakfast.
Chapter 11
Right of Way
JULIETTE
Theriverlayflatand dark beyond the reeds, its surface a sheet of dull, weathered metal. It refused to ripple, holding the sky in a stagnant reflection.
Nick let the engine idle low.
The quiet arrived in layers. Insects. Birds. Then nothing.
And this is the part where the swamp monster makes its scheduled appearance. I really should have checked the itinerary for local cryptids.
He didn't look at me. “Stay in the vehicle.”
“Wasn’t planning a swim, Mercer.”
