Page 120 of Override

Something inside my chest cracks wide open. Not painfully. Relief. Pure relief.

Because for the first time all night—Someone looks happy simply because I'm here. For one impossible moment...it feels like freedom.

Chapter 24

Keaton (Skee)

The problem isn't the dress. The dress is objectively attractive. I'm capable of acknowledging objective facts. The problem isn't the hair either. Or the makeup. Or the way every man in the ballroom keeps looking at her. None of those things are the problem.

The problem is the smile.

I watch it happen in real time through the camera feed. One second she's standing in the doorway. The next, her mother looks up. And Maeve changes. Not physically. Something else. Something harder to explain.

The carefulness disappears. The tension I've spent weeks watching drains away. Then she smiles. And suddenly she looks younger. Lighter. Free.

The sight hits me somewhere directly behind my sternum.

Hard.

My hand stills on the mouse. The realization arrives immediately afterward.

Oh. Oh, that's bad.

I stare at the screen. Then at Maeve. Then back at the screen.

No. Absolutely not. The thought is ridiculous. Impossible. Statistically unlikely.

The smile remains. My stomach drops.

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me."

The words leave my mouth before I can stop them. Because suddenly every weird thing I've been doing makes sense.

The coffee. The music. The texts. The constant need to know she's okay. The way seeing her smile improves my mood. The way seeing her sad ruins it.

The way I know exactly how she takes her coffee. The way I know which songs make her happy.

The way I—"No."

I close the laptop. Immediately stand. Grab my keys. Then leave.

*****

Twenty-five minutes later I'm standing in Matt and Rachel's kitchen.

Pacing.

The counting started somewhere around mile three. I haven't stopped since.

Three steps. Turn. Three steps. Turn. Three steps. Turn.

The kitchen clock ticks softly overhead. Matt sits at the table. Watching. Patiently.

Which somehow makes everything worse.

Rachel moves around the kitchen making coffee.

Neither of them has interrupted me yet. Which means they're waiting for me to talk.