Page 149 of Trust No One

“Amy. Maria. Gabe. Who killed who? Or was there someone else?”

Judson was silent. “I think Amy set fire to the attic while Molly was with her. It served as a message to Gabe.”

Molly had been unaware that the woman caring for her had risked burning her to death. “‘Love me or I’ll take everything you care about’?”

“Or ‘I know your secret,’” he said. Silence settled. “She sent the message to Maria.”

“Makes sense. Maria was following her around,” I said.

“You heard that, too?”

I hadn’t shared that bit of information. But neither had he. “Can we agree we’re on the same team now?”

He nodded. “You and Molly should live somewhere else.”

“She’s been uprooted a lot. From what I’ve read, she’s probably still in shock. The pending trauma will hit hard. For now, I think we’ll stay.”

He took my hand in his. The contact was electric. “I care about you. I want you safe.”

“Thank you, for caring.”

Natural to lean toward him. He wasn’t going to close the void. So I did. My lips met his.

Hand came to my waist—hesitant—then, as if discarding reason, brown eyes sharpened. He pulled me closer.

When he deepened the kiss, I tasted hints of the boy in the man he’d become. He was familiar and not. The shadows grew larger on the walls. I felt bolder.

“Come upstairs,” I whispered.

“Are you sure?” It was a question that he must have known answered itself.

“Yes.” Seventeen years. I’d missed this for seventeen years.

I rose, took his hand, and led him upstairs to the spare room I’d been using. I closed the door softly. Our mouths met again, slower this time.

The kids we’d been were gone. Grown into strangers. Now, it was time to discover who’d we become.

Chapter Fifty-Five

Judson

Friday, October 23, 2026, 4:00 a.m.

Raine was sleeping in the large four-poster bed when I left the bedroom. For all the time we’d spent together, I’d never slept in the main house. Slipping out made me feel like I’d broken a rule—like a teenager sneaking away before anyone noticed.

Last night had been amazing. Our bodies fell into sync immediately. Great sex should be straightforward. We were adults. Knew the score. But with Raine—complications were a given.

The drive home took a half hour. By the time I fell into bed, I should’ve fallen asleep. A few hours would dull the fatigue. But my eyes stayed open.

Sleeping with Raine had been a poor choice. I wasn’t a kid anymore. Neither was she. But it had also felt inevitable since the moment I’d seen her at the hospital.

After tossing and turning for an hour, I gave up. A shower washed away her scents, which I hated losing.

The water cooled, I stepped out, toweled off, and dressed. In the small kitchen, I set the coffeepot to brew.

In the den, surrounded by leather furniture, I moved to the floor-to-ceiling bookshelf. I scanned the lower shelves for my yearbook from senior year.

I flipped to the H section. Raine stared back from the page, younger but recognizable. Fuller cheeks. Guarded eyes. Blond hair trailed down her shoulders.