Page 53

Six months.

The exact number of months I’ve lived in this house. Every repaired railing. Every board sanded smooth before I woke up. Every single time he happened to be out in his yard when I dragged myself home after close, like he was always just there.

Because he was always just there. On purpose.

The cold in the room isn’t magic this time. It’s just me, going hollow from the inside out.

"Was any of it real?" I ask.

His face changes. Not to anger. To something raw, something that looks like I hit him.

"All of it."

"Except the part where you were watching my house. Watching me."

"I wasn’t spying on you."

"You knew what I was. Before I did."

"Yes."

"You knew things were coming for me?"

"Yes."

"And you said nothing." My voice cracks on the last word, and I hate it, hate that it matters this much, that he matters this much. "Six months of good mornings and fixed railings, and you let me think I was losing my mind."

"To keep you safe."

"You don’t get to keep me safe by keeping me stupid."

I stand. He stands too, because of course he does, filling the whole kitchen, and I’ve never wanted someone gone and wanted them to stay in the same breath.

"Get out."

"Maren."

"Please. I can't deal with this right now."

That word stops him where the order didn’t. He looks at me for a long moment, an apology in his face because he can’t say it out loud.

He nods.

"And you too. Go." I say to Evelyn.

She starts moving towards the door.

"Let's talk later once you've had a chance to think."

At the door Gage turns, one hand on the frame. "If anything happens tonight."

"I know."

"Call me. I mean it."

I don’t answer. He goes. I turn the new dead bolt he installed himself, and the click is very loud in the quiet.

Sid sits at my feet.