When I finished, there was a long silence on the line.
“You keep calling it the job,” he said finally. “You sound like a man halfway in love and halfway in denial.”
“I’m protecting her, like Penny asked.”
He chuckled, low and humorless. “That’s the story you tell yourself. But let’s call it what it is. You care. And that makes you sloppy.”
“Thanks for the encouragement.”
“Listen to me, Adams. The closer you get, the messier this’ll be when she learns the truth. You should’ve told her from the start.”
“I wanted to,” I said quietly.
“Then things got real.”
“That’s what love does.” He paused, voice softening. “But she deserves the whole picture. Don’t let her find it out from someone else.”
The line clicked dead, leaving only the buzz of insects and the low hum of the power lines overhead.
Behind me, a hinge creaked. I didn’t turn. Probably the screen door shifting in the night breeze.
When I finally did look, the porch was empty. The kitchen light was on.
I exhaled, long and slow, and told myself she hadn’t heard a word.
I was wrong.
The night had settled deep and heavy by the time I went back inside. The kitchen light was the only one still burning, washing the room in that pale yellow that makes everything look lonelier.
Milly stood at the sink, hands resting on the edge, shoulders tense. She didn’t turn when I stepped in.
“Everything okay?” I asked.
Her voice was calm, practiced. “Fine. Just cleaning up before bed.”
The counter was spotless. The lemon-bar pan from this morning gleamed like new.
“You were out late,” she said without looking up.
“I needed to talk to an old friend about the package.”
“Reaper,” she said. It wasn’t a question.
Something cold slid down my spine. “You heard?”
“Just enough.” She finally turned, eyes steady, unreadable. “Enough to know I’m an assignment you care too much about.”
“Milly—”
“I get it,” she said, cutting me off softly. “You made a promise to my aunt. Protect me, keep secrets, check the shadows for monsters. I just didn’t realize I was one of the shadows you were keeping things from.”
“That’s not what this is.”
She brushed past me, the faint scent of rain still clinging to her hair. “You don’t have to explain. I don’t think you even know how.”
The bedroom door clicked shut before I could cross the room.
For a long time, I just stood there, the house too still, the echo of her footsteps fading into the hum of the fridge. Inspector jumped onto the counter, tail twitching, eyes on me like he expected a plan.
