Inspector’s tail flicked.
“Yep. Honesty.”
“I still protect you, but just a little closer.” I squeezed her hand.
She managed a faint smile. “Good. But I’m done being handled. I want to know everything, even the ugly parts.”
“Then you will.” I squeezed her hand again, thumb brushing her knuckles. “From now on, we’ll handle this side by side.”
Her breath hitched, and she nodded. “That works for me.”
I leaned back into the couch, still holding her hand. “You realize this means you’re going to have to put up with my security checklists.”
She sniffed a laugh. “Only if you let me color-code them.”
“Not a chance.”
And there it was—the tiniest spark of the Milly I knew, glinting through the cracks.
We sat like that long into the night, watching movies and drinking hot cocoa. The cat purred like a motor between us. When she finally rested her head on my shoulder, I closed my eyes and thought about the letter from Penny. Her mission was planned out in black and white, but she didn’t account for one variable—Milly. Maybe that was the point.
Milly hadn’t moved for a while. Her head rested against my shoulder, the cat sprawled across both of us. Every so often, she’d shift, and the couch would creak.
“Do you ever regret it?” she asked quietly. “Taking this on?”
I looked toward the window where stars dotted the sky. “Every day that I couldn’t tell you the truth. But never the part where it meant I got to know you.”
She turned her head just enough to see me. “You mean that?”
“Yeah. At first, I thought Penny picked me because I could follow orders. Keep things contained.” I smiled faintly. “Turns out, I think she picked me because she knew I wouldn’t be able to.”
Milly’s mouth curved. “She was sneaky that way. Always the meddler, always had a sneaky plan in her back pocket.”
“She was sneaky, wasn’t she? And now I get why she told me not to tell you. She was worried the truth would push you away before you ever felt at home here.”
“Guess it almost did.”
“Almost.”
Inspector lifted his head, blinked at us, then jumped down and padded toward the hallway. Milly shivered, and I pulled the Afghan from the back of the couch, draping it over her shoulders.
Milly snuggled closer, brushing a stray hair from her cheek. “So, what happens now?”
I thought about all the plans I’d written, the contingency maps, the phone tree taped behind the office door. “Now?” I said. “We tackle this together.”
She raised an eyebrow. “That sounds suspiciously like a plan.”
“Nope, not even close,” I admitted. “But this time, you get to write half of whatever it is.”
That earned me the first real laugh of the night.
I stood and offered her my hand. “Come on. You should see the sky.”
She hesitated, then slipped her fingers into mine, letting me lead her onto the porch.
Milly sat on the porch swing, arms folded. “You know,” she said, “if you’d told me about Penny’s letter the first week, I probably would’ve fired you.”
“I figured as much.”
