“You’re shaking.”
“Adrenaline.” The word came out rougher than he intended. “It’ll pass. Areyouokay?”
“I’m fine.” But her voice had a tremor in it too, and he could see the way her fingers were locked in Atlas’s fur, the dog pressed tight against her leg.
“Come here.” He opened his arms, and she stepped into them without hesitation. She was shaking. He could feel it through her jacket, a fine vibration that ran the length of her body. He pulled her in tight and held on, and she buried her face in his chest and breathed.
“Daniel killed my sister.” Her voice was muffled against his shirt. “He was obsessed with her. He?—”
“We don’t know that yet.”
“We know enough.” She pulled back and looked up at him. Her eyes were bright, fierce, the green of them almost electric under the parking lot lights. “He said she was supposed to be his. He saidjust like Alice was supposed to be mine. He admitted it in front of everyone.”
“Yeah.” Bear’s hands were still shaking. He kept them on her back, hoping she couldn’t feel it. “He did.”
“Bear.” She searched his face. “He killed her. I know he did.”
He didn’t argue. He couldn’t. The pieces were falling into place in his own head—the way Daniel had fixated on Greta the same way. The same obsessive behavior, the same refusal to accept rejection. The same violent escalation when he didn’t get what he wanted.
“Let the troopers do their job,” he said. “They’ll look into it.”
Greta’s jaw tightened. He could see the argument building behind her eyes—the need to act, to do something, to not just stand here and wait. But she swallowed it and nodded.
“Okay.”
X pulled into Bear’s driveway and cut the engine. Logan jumped out the moment the truck stopped and headed up the porch steps, ball cap pulled low. Atlas and King jumped down from the truck bed and trailed him toward the door.
Bear got out slower.
The streetlight on the corner of Maple was the only one working. It threw a pale yellow cone across the wet asphalt. The house was lit from within—Logan had left lights on when they’d headed to the fairgrounds—and King disappeared through the front door as Logan held it open. Atlas hesitated at the bottom of the steps, looked back at Greta still in the cab, then padded back to her.
Greta finally climbed out of the back seat and closed the door quietly.
X cut Bear a look from the driver’s seat and mouthed, “You good?”
Bear nodded.
X tipped his chin, started the truck back up, and pulled out.
Bear stood in the driveway. Greta stood at the edge of the street, looking over at her house.
He waited until the taillights of X’s truck disappeared around the corner before he approached her.
“You coming in?” he asked.
She didn’t answer right away. She was staring at her bungalow across the street, the dark windows, the porch with the Adirondack chair, and the dead potted geranium she’d forgotten to water before the flood. Atlas sat at her boot and watched her face.
“I think I want to sleep at my place tonight.”
Something cold moved through his chest. He kept his face neutral. “Okay.”
“I know.” She turned to him. “I know what you’re going to say.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You don’t have to.” A ghost of a smile. “I can feel it from here.” She looked up at him. The streetlight caught the gold in her eyes and threw shadows under her cheekbones. “I haven’t slept in my own house in almost a month. I told myself I just liked being at yours. That it was easier. That Logan needed edible dinners, and Atlas had taken to King, and it just made sense.” She paused. “But that wasn’t all of it. Some of it was that I couldn’t stand to be alone in that house. Couldn’t stand the thought of finding another note from Daniel.”
Bear waited.
