Page 43

“That could take too long.”

She’s right.

I hate that she’s right.

Will steps between us.

“I’ll stay with Sage.”

“You said you would protect her,” I remind him.

“I can protect her in the vehicle while you and the others clear the motel. She’ll remain out of sight unless we need an identification.”

“That puts her on the road.”

“In an armored vehicle with me.”

Sage looks at me. “Please.”

Every instinct I have screams to lock her inside the reinforced room until this is over.

But I’ve known her less than a day. If I start our relationship by locking her away for her own protection, I’m no better than the people who have spent her entire life deciding what she can endure.

“You stay with Will,” I say. “You do exactly what he tells you.”

“I will.”

“If he tells you to get down, you get down. If he tells you to run, you run where he points. No arguments.”

“I understand.”

“Put the wig and glasses on.”

She slides the glasses onto her face.

The girl who looks like Hayley disappears.

My daughter vanishes beneath baggy clothes, brown hair, and fear.

I hate the disguise.

I’m grateful for it.

Arthur returns with our gear. “Vehicle’s ready.”

I look toward the patio doors. Dawn is beginning to break over the mountains. The first gray light stretches across the desert, exposing the two pans of cinnamon rolls sitting on the kitchen counter.

They’ll have to wait.

So will everything else.

My birthday.

Sage’s birthday.

The hundreds of letters in her backpack.

The explanation for why Hayley called me after eighteen years.