Page 188 of The Next Lie

“Annoying.”

His expression sobers. “Alive.”

The word hangs there. He lets it.

I grip the railing. “I’m scared, Shiloh.”

His voice drops. “I know.”

“I don’t like that you won’t be inside.”

“We’ll all be outside.”

“That’s not the same.”

I see his chest rise and fall with a breath. “No, it’s not.”

“I don’t like it.”

“Neither do I.”

We hold each other’s gaze across the space between balcony and garden. Then he lifts something from his pocket and tosses it up. I catch it against my chest.

A small charm bracelet. Silver chain. Tiny green stone. A little gold cat. A rose charm no bigger than my thumbnail.

“What is this?”

“Just something pretty, so we’re close to you.”

My mouth tightens. “Shiloh.”

“Also a secondary transmitter—well, technically a third transmitter—because Ever has infected me with practicality.”

I stare at the bracelet.

“It’s pretty,” he says. “That was the important part.”

My fingers close around it. I hate how much it steadies me.

“I don’t have anything to throw down to you.”

His eyes flick over me again, slower this time, and his smile returns with enough heat to make my face warm.

“You’re standing there in your underwear calling me manipulative. Throw me a kiss, and I’ll survive on the memory.”

I laugh. “Go away.”

He blows me a kiss.

I catch it and throw it back at him.

He presses a hand to his chest, then turns and walks toward the house.

I stay on the balcony for another minute, bracelet in my palm, letting the air touch my skin and the fear settle somewhere I can carry it.

Then I go back inside.

Sonny takes one look at my face and says nothing. That is how I know she is my friend.