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Only that fucking bear hunt song freaks me out, and I still don’t know how Vero even knew about it. It is an irrational childhood fear, one my parents used to make me behave and stay in bed as a child. One fear I cannot shake. It makes no sense, and it has not been an issue until Vero.

“There was a man at the bar,” I tell Doren. “He looked like someone I used to know, and it freaked me out a little.”

Doren doesn’t ask who, knowing me well enough that if I wanted to tell him I would.

“I knew it wasn’t him, but my body apparently didn’t get the message.”

“That sucks.”

“I thought I was past this—it’s been a year since the last one.”

He looks at me. “You’re a tough bitch, Kayla. You’ll be okay. Did you want me to tell Rogue?”

I snort, and it’s very unladylike. “God, no.”

“Good choice, she would mother-hen you. Stay here for another five and I will cover you.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

He stands up and looks down at me. “Five minutes and then come back in. I will have a glass of water ready for you.”

Once I nod, he turns his back and walks toward the bar. I sit and breathe, making sure I am good to go back in there.

After my five minutes are up, I head back inside, and the rest of my shift passes by quickly with no more panic attacks. Everything seems normal, thanks to Doren not treating me like I’m fragile. He was his normal charming self, insulting me at every chance he got.

My phone buzzes as I am walking outside after my shift ends, and I retrieve it from my bag.

Brawley

He is at the corner store.

I smile and send a reply.

Kayla

Thanks. I will go find him.

Brawley

If you need me let me know.

I pocket my phone and wave to Bianca, who is smoking outside on her break.

The convenience store is lit up, and I walk inside to look for Vero. I hear him straight away.

“I’m not asking for much, just chicken nuggets. Six would be good—you don’t even need to make twelve. A half-serve. Oh, a tasting plate.”

“We don’t sell nuggets.”

“You sell hot fries.”

“Yes.”

“So you have a fryer?”

“Also, yes.”

“So what you’re telling me is that you have the fryer, hot oil, and no nuggets. This is a tragedy of epic proportions.”