"What am I going to do?" she asks. The question is simple but loaded with so many layers of meaning.
I study her face for a long moment as an idea takes shape in my mind. We both need a place to breathe. To heal. To remember who we are outside the sterile walls of Sierra Mercy.
Brushing a strand of hair from her face, I tuck it behind her ear before tilting her chin up to make sure she’s looking directly into my eyes.
"Pack a bag. I'm taking you away from all this."
Confusion flickers across her features. "What? Where?"
I trace the curve of her jawline. "Somewhere I think might help you."
She stares at me, uncertainty warring with exhaustion in her eyes. "Sebastian, I don't—"
"Trust me," I all but beg. "Please."
For a long moment, she just looks at me, then nods slightly.
"Okay."
Chapter 33
Mia
The Montana night sky stretches endlessly above us, a black canvas splattered with more stars than I've ever seen in my life. I've been staring at them for the last hour, my forehead pressed against the cool glass of Sebastian's passenger window, mind too numb to process that we're actually here.
That we drove across state lines.
"We're almost there," Sebastian says, his voice low and gentle, the same tone he's been using since he found me broken on my apartment floor. Like I might shatter all over again if he speaks too loudly.
He might be right.
The miles between Sierra Mercy and here have blurred together. I vaguely remember stopping for gas, Sebastian's hand on my knee as he asked if I wanted anything to eat. I remember shaking my head, unable to imagine ever being hungry again. I remember dozing against the window, waking with tear-crusted lashes to find his jacket draped over me like a blanket.
The car slows as we turn onto a gravel road that winds between tall pines. Our headlights cut through the darkness, briefly illuminating a wooden sign that reads, Walker Ranch.
"Home," he murmurs, almost to himself.
The word pierces something raw inside me. Home. I had one of those once. Before my dad died. Before I failed him. Before I failed Cheryl. Before I—
"Hey." Sebastian's hand finds mine in the darkness and he squeezes gently. "Stay with me."
He can read me too well. It should terrify me, but I'm too exhausted for fear.
The car rounds a final bend to reveal a sprawling farmhouse with warm yellow light spilling from the windows. It's exactly how Sebastian described it, right down to the deep wraparound porch and the rocking chairs facing the fields beyond.
Parking near the front steps, he kills the engine. The sudden silence wraps around us, punctuated only by the ticking of the cooling engine and the distant sound of wild animals.
"You okay?" he asks, his thumb stroking across my knuckles.
I'm not. Not even close. But I nod anyway, because what else can I do? I've been crying for hours. My eyes feel like they've been scrubbed with sandpaper, and my throat raw from sobs that have finally, mercifully, run dry.
Sebastian doesn't push, just releases my hand and opens his door. Cool night air rushes in, carrying scents I've never encountered in the city. It smells like freedom. Like escape.
I force myself to move, to push open my door and step out onto the packed dirt of the yard. My legs shake slightly after hours in the car, and I steady myself against the vehicle's frame. Above me, the stars seem even brighter now.
I’m still admiring them when the front door swings open, and two figures emerge into the porch light. An older man with aweathered face and a cane, and a petite woman with auburn hair streaked with silver, tied back in a bun.
"Sebastian," the woman calls, her voice warm with affection and surprise. "What a lovely surprise."
