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"I wouldn't even know what I'm looking for."

"I can look tomorrow if you want. See if there's anything obvious."

The offer makes something in my chest loosen. "Thank you."

"And I'll see if I can track him down. Figure out if he's still in the area. If he is, I'll make sure he knows he needs to leave."

I pull my knees up and wrap my arms around them. "I'm so tired of being scared of him. I left my entire life behind. My apartment, my clients, my city. And he still found me. How is that fair?"

"It's not."

"I know it's not. I just..." I press my forehead to my knees. "I'm so angry. At him for not leaving me alone. At myself for not seeing who he was sooner. At the whole situation."

"You didn't do anything wrong."

"I stayed with him for a year. I ignored red flags. I made excuses for behavior I knew wasn't okay."

"That doesn't make this your fault."

"Then whose fault is it?"

"His." Kieran shifts so he's turned toward me. "Hey, look at me."

I lift my head.

"You're not responsible for his behavior. You didn't make him track you down. You didn't make him show up at your apartment while you were sleeping. You didn't make him grab you. Those were his choices, not yours."

"My therapist in Richmond said the same thing."

"It’s the truth."

"She also said I needed to learn to trust my instincts again. That Trevor spent so long telling me I was wrong about things that I stopped believing myself."

"And?"

"And I don't know if I can. Trust myself, I mean." I look at the fire instead of at him. "Because my instincts are telling me that you're different. That you're safe. That I can trust you. But how do I know that's real and not just me wanting it to be real?"

He doesn't answer right away. When he does, his voice is low. "I can't prove I'm different. You're just going to have to decide for yourself whether you believe me."

"That's not helpful."

"I know. But it's honest."

We sit there in silence for a while.

The fire crackles, and outside the wind picks up, making the trees creak. I should probably be more freaked out that Kieran showed up unannounced at my door at nine-thirty at night. But I'm not. I'm just relieved I'm not alone.

"What made you come back? Really. Not the sanitized version."

He looks at me for a long moment, and I can see him deciding whether to tell me the truth.

"There was a kid," he says finally. "Twelve, maybe thirteen. We were in a village outside Kandahar doing routine patrol. He came up asking for food. Standard stuff. We gave him MREs, and he was so excited. Just grinning ear to ear, you know?"

I nod.

"Two hours later he walked into a checkpoint with a bomb strapped to his chest. Killed three of my men. Wounded four more." His voice is flat, factual. "The Taliban threatened his family. Told him if he didn't do it, they'd kill his mother and sisters. So he did it."

"Oh my God."