Page 95 of Her Wicker Guardian

“No.”

I smile. “Fine. Connor is secretly wise.”

“About this.”

I laugh and reach for the bowl.

It’s empty.

I stare into it. “You ate all the popcorn.”

Locke looks down too. “We ate it.”

“I had maybe twelve pieces.”

“That is still we.”

I narrow my eyes at him.

He looks completely serious.

“You’re learning loopholes from Blair.”

“I don’t know loopholes.”

“You will.”

I stand and carry the bowl into the kitchen. Behind me, the television menu starts playing its music again.

I wash the bowl and put it in the dish rack. My phone is still on the counter where I set it earlier, and Trent’s message is still waiting behind the dark screen. For a second, I stand here looking at it.

I could open it again. Read the words another time. Try to figure out whether there’s a warning buried in them that I need to prepare for. I’ve spent years doing that. Searching every sentence for the thing that might come next.

I leave the message unread, slip the phone into my pocket, and return to the living room where Locke is holding the remote.

“Another?”

I look at the television, then at him. “You’ve discovered movies and popcorn on the same night. I may have created a problem.”

“Is that yes?”

“No. It’s late.”

He looks toward the window as if darkness might tell him something useful.

“How late?”

“Late enough that I need to go to bed.”

He sets the remote down without argument.

I pick up the blanket from the other end of the couch and hand it to him. “You know where everything is?”

“Yes.”

“Water?”

He points toward the bottle on the table.