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It’s about her.

We sit there for a while, looking out toward the ocean as I hold Blair like my life fucking depends on it.

Eventually, she lifts her head from my chest. “I want to go home.”

“Anything you want, baby,” I tell her.

We climb into the truck, and every instinct I have is screaming at me to take Blair back to my house and keep her where I know she’s safe. But I won’t make that choice for her.

Instead, I reach across the center console and lace my fingers through hers.

When we pull into her driveway, Blair doesn’t move. She stares at the cottage, her fingers tightening around mine.

“Can you stay with me tonight?” she asks quietly.

She asked me to stay.

She actually fucking asked.

For a second, I can’t speak. Not because I don’t want to stay, but because the fear in her eyes makes me want to find Ben and wring his fucking neck.

I hate how I know his name.

Blair mistakes my silence for hesitation. “It’s okay. You don’t have to.”

“Blair.”

She looks at me, and although she won’t beg me to stay out loud, her eyes are doing it for her.

“I’m staying.”

Relief softens her face almost immediately.

“Thank you,” she whispers, reaching for the door.

“I’ll come in with you.”

Her shoulders drop with a quiet exhale, like she’d been working herself up to walk through that door alone.

The second we’re inside, Blair checks the back door and every window. Then she circles back and checks them again.

All the little things I noticed about her finally make sense. Checking the locks. Jumping whenever her phone rings. Startling at sudden noises.

None of them were quirks.

They were scars no one else could see.

“I’m going to take a shower,” Blair says, rubbing her hands over her arms.

“Okay. I’m just going to call Mom and check on Pen.”

Blair nods before disappearing down the hallway.

I listen to the shower start, then pull out my phone and call Mom.

She answers after a few rings. “Hi, honey. Everything okay?”

“Yeah. I’m just checking on Aspen.”