Page 14

I'm standing in the kitchen trying to decide if I should call Emma when there's a knock at the door.

My whole body goes cold and numb.

Trevor... It has to be him. He came back, and I'm alone, and—

"Lyla? It's Kieran."

The relief is so intense I have to lean against the counter for a second. Then I'm crossing to the door, checking the peephole to be sure, and opening it.

Kieran's standing on the porch in jeans and a dark henley, hands in his pockets, looking uncomfortable in a way that's completely at odds with his usual calm.

"Hi," I say.

"Hi. Sorry, I was in the area."

We both know that's not true. Maple Ridge Road doesn't go anywhere except to this cottage and a few vacation rentals further up that are empty this time of year.

"Okay," I say.

He runs a hand through his hair. "That's a lie. I was home, and I kept thinking about you out here alone, and I talked myself out of coming back about four times, and then I drove here anyway."

The honesty catches me off guard. "Oh."

"I can go. I should probably go. This is weird. I'm making this weird."

"A little bit," I agree, but I'm smiling. "But will you come in?"

He looks at me like he's trying to figure out if I actually mean it or if I'm just being polite. "You sure?"

"I was just standing in my kitchen freaking out about how Trevor found me and whether he's going to show up here in the middle of the night. So yeah, please!"

He follows me inside, and I'm suddenly very aware of how small the cottage is. How there's nowhere to put him that doesn't feel intimate.

The couch is too close to the fire. The kitchen table is tiny and cluttered with my work stuff. The bedroom is obviously out of the question.

"You want tea?" I ask. "Or I think I have beer somewhere."

"Tea's good."

I make us both mugs and we end up sitting on the floor in front of the wood stove with our backs against the couch, just like I was before he knocked. It feels weirdly natural.

He takes a sip and makes a face.

"Too sweet?" I ask.

"A little bit." But he drinks it anyway.

We sit there for a minute not saying anything, and it's not awkward exactly. Just loaded.

"So you were freaking out about how Trevor found you," Kieran says finally.

"Yeah. I've been trying to figure it out all evening, and I can't. I didn't tell anyone except my sister. I used cash. I haven't been online. But he knew I was in Bloomfield. He knew exactly where to find me."

"You think he tracked you somehow?"

"I don't know. Maybe? Is that something people can do? Track someone's phone or car or something?"

"It's possible. There are apps, GPS trackers. Or he could've hired someone. Private investigator, something like that." Kieran sets his mug down. "Have you checked your car? Your phone?"