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“Good luck, Sasha.”

Good luck? That’s it? My whole body is unraveling, but this is just another day for him. I wish Booker were here, because he’d at least pick up on my mood and call attention to it. Wilde is too busy wanting this to be over, and all Nixon’s attention is on Gage.

I look down at the keys.

This is it. The thing I’ve been waiting on. And after my talk with Lynx the other day, it’s the thing he’s been waiting on too. I didn’t realize being with me was so terrible for him, but since our talk, I’ve been picking up on how things have changed. Him being out all night so he doesn’t have to touch me. The tension he has every time Gage is mentioned. The way he’s obsessively focused on outsiders and nothing else.

And as Wilde has just made perfectly clear, I’m still an outsider to them.

The plan was always Portland. Maybe it’s best for everyone that I go.

All those dreams of Lynx and me living together and being happy have melted away to mist, and it’s time to face reality. I create problems everywhere I go, and the best thing I can do for Lynx, if I actually care about him, is to take my problems away from here.

Leave him to his cubs and his pack and his superstitions.

It should be an easy thing to do, but I’ve never been a selfless person. I don’t want to go. The closer I’ve gotten to having the freedom to, the more that has sunk in. Maybe the people here have Stockholm syndromed me into it, but I feel like there’s too much I’m leaving behind.

I never really got to know Kennedy. Queenie has so many more stories to tell me. I never got to watch a Peril match. My games with Booker are over.

Now I just … get in my car and leave all that. Move to a city and hope that I stop fucking up and forget everyone here.

Forget Lynx?

It’s hard to swallow, but I get it down.

“Thank you,” I tell Gage.

He points to my car. “Might want to get rid of those stuffed toys in there though. They’re basically a beacon calling someone to attack you.”

“What are you talking about?”

“They’re kiddie things, yeah? You’re telling everyone you’re an easy target.”

An easy target. Will there ever be a time in my life where I can just be me without being judged for it?

“Thanks for the advice.” My words are dry, but it doesn’t matter because no one hears me speak anyway. Will it be different in Portland? My gut tells me no.

I don’t know where I belong anymore. For a brief moment, I’d thought it was here. With Lynx, with Booker, with Wilde’s impatience over driving me around.

Now I’m more lost than when I first got here.

What if the police don’t hold Antonio and Jeffrey? What if the footage I got wasn’t enough? What if they come back? Portland is the safer option, not just for me but for Lynx too. I can’t put him through all that again.

Not when I’ve seen what it’s done to him. He’s coming apart at the edges.

I never wanted that for him.

I never wanted this for any of us.

My gaze finds Wilde, who’s leaning against the side of his truck. “Thanks for everything.”

He dips his head once, and that’s it. I almost ask him what he’d think if I stayed, but I swallow the question. If I say it, if I let it out, I might not have the courage to leave.

“I guess this is it, then.”

“Guess so.” He climbs into his truck. “I hope Portland is good to you.”

I have to bite my bottom lip to stop it from shaking. “Yeah. Me too.”