"When?"
"When I'm ready."
"When will that be?"
"I don't know. Soon. Not yet. But soon."
Matt nodded.
"Then we'll plan. Together."
"You don't have to—"
"I know. But I will."
I finished the tea and set the mug on the table.
The blanket was still around my shoulders. The couch was still warm. Matt was still in the chair across from me, his eyes on my face, his presence steady and calm.
"Matt."
"Yeah?"
"Thank you. For finding me. For bringing me home. For not giving up on me."
"I'm not going to give up on you, Bunny. You're the closest thing to family I've got."
"Family."
"Yeah. Family."
I lay back against the pillows and closed my eyes.
The darkness behind my lids was soft and warm.
I thought about the compound in Moscow.
I thought about Gabriel.
I thought about the bodies I'd left behind.
I thought about the blood on my hands, washed away now, but never really gone.
20
The Lullaby
The bar was quiet at this hour.
I'd been sitting here since Matt left—or maybe he'd left hours ago, or maybe just minutes, time had stopped meaning anything except the space between heartbeats. The chairs were up. The lights were off. The only illumination came from the streetlamp outside, casting long shadows across the wood floor, painting the bottles behind the counter in shades of amber and gold.
I was alone.
For the first time in weeks, I was alone.
And I didn't mind.
Not anymore.
