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Then I tell her everything.

Torin on the plane. Then Briggs on the couch. Then Ashby. I tell her about how they kept showing up and helped me with Lucy and with the search for her. About the sleepless nights spent worrying about her. How they found out about each other and didn’t seem to care.

“Torin kept showing up exactly when I needed him. Ashby saw through every defense I put up. Briggs challenged me, supported me, and made me feel safe,” I tell her.

I talk until I've run out of words.

Maggie listens to it all without a word or judgement, her elbows on her knees, watching the river. When I fall silent, she looks at me. "Okay. So tell me this."

I already know I'm not going to like whatever comes next.

"If the doctor had given you this news the week you got here, what would've happened?"

I don't even have to think about it. "I would've booked the first flight home."

She nods like she expected that answer. "And now?"

The words catch in my throat.

I stare across the water, turning the question over until it hurts. "I don't know."

Maggie studies me for a long moment before a small smile tugs at the corner of her mouth. "A month ago you'd have answered that before I'd finished asking."

I let out a breath. "I know."

"You've changed."

"I know." The admission comes easier than I expect, but it doesn't untangle the knot sitting in my chest. "I just don't know what I'm supposed to do about it."

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

Torin

I watch Laurel over the edge of my sketchbook while we sit around my dining room table. Ashby has paperwork spread in front of him. Briggs nurses a mug of coffee in the chair beside the window.

I'm supposed to be sketching, but my pencil hasn't touched the page in several minutes because Laurel keeps twisting the sleeve of her jumper around her fingers, tightening it a little more every time somebody speaks.

Eventually Briggs sets his mug down and leans back in his chair. "Alright. What's going on?"

Laurel's head snaps up. "What?"

Briggs gestures toward her. "You've been winding yourself tighter and tighter for the last ten minutes. Spill."

Ashby glances up from his paperwork. "I was giving her another five."

"Five what?" Laurel asks.

"Minutes. Before you exploded."

Laurel groans and drops her face into her hands.

Every muscle in my body tightens.

That reaction can't be good.

Ashby sits straighter. Briggs' expression shifts from amused to concerned. Across the table, all three of us are suddenly paying close attention.

Briggs folds his arms. "See? That's the face people make before announcing they've accidentally murdered someone."