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How was I supposed to explain what I saw? They’d never believe me.
Sam poked his head out from the closet. “Noah, check the door.”
Noah nodded, then disappeared into the kitchen.
I sat on the bed, my heart racing.
Iknewit would be impossible to prove what I saw.
I knew there’d be no evidence—
“Door’s locked,” Noah said from the kitchen.
Sam emerged from the closet, looking pissed.
Our eyes locked.
I swallowed and willed myself to feel safe. “There… there was nothing in there. Right?”
Sam nodded and kneeled next to me. He rested his hand on my knee.
Noah returned, paused in the doorway, then leaned against the frame.
I buried my face in my hands and started to cry. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry…”
“Why?”
“I’m… I’m seeing things…”
“Grace…”
Tears slid down my face and snot started to drip from my nose. Shame bled through me, spreading and twisting like black ink through water.
“I believe you.”
I lifted my gaze and my dark curtain of hair parted.
Sam’s icy eyes bored into mine. “I believe you.”
I threw my arms around him and let it all out in heaving, ugly sobs. “I’m sorry I’m so messed up—”
“You’re not messed up,” Sam whispered in my ear. He held me close.
“But… but…”
“It’s okay to be afraid. I’ll protect you.”
His words drifted into my ears and swaddled my terror.
Noah crossed his ankles and lifted his chin. “If this guy wants you, he’s going to have to go through us.”
“I… I thought you didn’t want anything to do with… with the romantic part…”
Noah lowered his chin and his eyes darkened. “I still want to keep you safe.”
Hope swelled in my chest.
Maybe…
