I blink. “A cat.”
She nods, straight-faced. “Yes. It was stuck on the ledge. Terrified. I couldn’t just leave it.”
“A cat.”
“Yes.”
“You hate cats.”
She falters—just a flicker—but recovers quickly. “I do not.”
I fold my arms. “You used to carry a water bottle on your hip like a gunslinger just to keep the barn cats away.”
“They were vicious.”
“They werekittens.”
I stare at her. She stares right back.
“Where is it now?” I gesture toward the balcony.
“Where’s what?”
“The cat?”
She hesitates. “It... ran away.”
I exhale through my nose. “Right.”
She’s lying. Cybil has hated cats since the day a feral barn kitten got tangled in her braids and took a fistful of hair with it. But it’s not just the lie—it’s the anxiousness beneath it. My hand slips into my pocket and I close my fingers around her ring. I should give it back. But I don’t.
If she was in Ramirez’s office looking for it, why lie about it? Rook’s words from earlier circle back, sharp and unwanted. Is there truth in Ramirez’s suspicion that Edmond’s going rogue? And where does that leave Cybil?
A knot twists in my gut. “Are you sure everything’s okay?”
She meets my eyes, but her smile shows up late. “Yes, it’s just been a long day, and I wasn’t planning to end it stuck out on a ledge.”
“To save a cat.”
She lets out a breath. “Yes,Craig, to save a cat. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d really like to go to my room and forget this day ever happened.”
My posture softens at her tone. I want answers, but something about the way she won’t look at me keeps me from pressing further.
She’s halfway to the door when she freezes. Her eyes lock on the slice of chocolate torte sitting on the table.
I notice. Of course I do. “You can have it,” I offer.
“I already told you—”
“You don’t like chocolate,” I finish. “But I thought maybe this would change your mind. I know you—”
“Why are you so determined to prove you know me?” She folds her arms tight across her chest.
The words hit harder than I expect. My voice is quieter when I say, “Why are you so determined to prove I don’t?”
The tension between us turns electric again, crawling under my skin and buzzing like a live wire. All I can think about is what Rook asked me to do.If Edmond is playing Ramirez, maybe she’s in on it too.
But that doesn’t track. Not with the girl I remember. Not with the woman standing in front of me. “I know you,” I say, softer now. “Or I did.”
