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“Did you know before the meeting?” Erica asks.

“No,” I say.

“And they want you because of your old work?” Erica asks.

“Yes,” I reply.

Erica goes quiet again.

I stand and start pacing slowly toward the window. “I haven’t agreed yet.”

“But you’re thinking about it,” Erica says.

“It would be hard to justify saying no,” I reply.

“Professionally,” she says.

“Yes,” I answer.

Erica lets that sit for a moment before speaking again.

“You know you’ve built your whole life around avoiding anything that feels unstable, right?”

I stop pacing. “No, I haven’t.”

“You absolutely have,” Erica says.

“That’s dramatic,” I reply.

“Is it?” she asks.

“Yes,” I say.

Erica’s voice stays calm.

“Blaire, you chose the safest city, the safest house, the safest routines and the safest man you could find.”

My jaw tightens. “Jason wasn’t safe. He was good.”

“I know,” Erica says.

“That’s not the same thing,” I reply.

“I didn’t say it was,” Erica says.

“You implied it,” I tell her.

Erica sighs. “I’m not insulting your life. I love your life. I’m in it.”

“Then what are you saying?” I ask.

“I’m saying you’ve gotten very good at choosing things you can control,” she replies.

I look out through the dark glass toward the garden.

“That sounds like a compliment,” I say.

“It isn’t,” Erica replies.