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“And?”

“I showed her.”

Pain presses against my chest.

An eighteen-year-old girl shouldn’t need to check the lock on a bedroom inside a house protected by four former Delta Special Forces operators.

But Sage has survived too many places where locked doors didn’t mean safety.

“She’ll learn,” Sean says.

“What?”

“That nobody is getting through that door.”

He doesn’t say it to comfort me.

He says it like a promise.

I believe him.

“Did you sleep?” he asks.

“No.”

“You need to.”

“So do you.”

“I will.”

“When?”

“Eventually.”

I study him over the rim of my mug.

“You haven’t changed as much as you think.”

His eyes meet mine.

“You have.”

I don’t know whether that is good or bad.

Before I can ask, a secure tone sounds from the hallway.

Sean is moving before the second tone.

“Stay here.”

“No.”

He stops.

“I’m not asking to go outside. I’m going to the security room.”

“Hayley.”