Whoever had torn apart her home didn’t know what Mira had left behind because Mira hadn’t leftanythingbehind, at least, nothing that Maren knew of. No diary. No letter. No hidden flash drive tucked in the spine ofA Blue Fairy’s Treasury of Tales. No neat, obvious answer from beyond the grave.
Just Juni.
Just a little girl with silver-gray eyes and a stuffed bear patched together and an entire family she didn’t know she’d had until two days ago.
Maren looked toward the house.
Through the window, she caught a glimpse of a painfully normal scene—Juni’s head bent close to Star’s. Arden stood nearby, one hand on her hip, smiling at something Ellie said. Women laughing in the kitchen.
That was what Maren had wanted since the day Mira died, and tried to give Juni.
Normal.
She’d built a normal life with lunchboxes and bedtime stories and grocery lists and the Blue Fairy Book. She’d built it with spaghetti and cheap Parmesan and ice cream on sale. She’d built it while grieving her twin and lying to herself that she was fine because Juni needed her to be fine.
And now Colin was telling her that someone had reached into that ordinary little life and tried to turn every responsible thing she did into a trail. The police report, her work laptop, probably her phone records and credit card?—
Oh, shit. License plates.
Maren’s fingers curled slightly beneath Colin’s hand.
She had spent the last few days being protected, watched over, fed, and reassured by people who had just met her, but who now trusted her and would not let anything happen to her or Juni.
And for the first time since she’d arrived at Watchdog’s gate, it occurred to her that maybe she didn’t have to just sit still and stay safe. She could stop being the woman who ran and start being the woman who fought back.
Maybe she could help protect the people who were protecting her.
Maren’s mind started moving.
Colin stroked his thumb across the back of her hand—just once, barely there. She looked him in the eye and read the question there—Are you okay?
Maren nodded. “They think I have something,” she said quietly. “Whatever Mira was hiding. They think she gave it to me.”
“Yes.”
“She didn’t, but that doesn’t matter. They’re going to try and find me. Theyaretrying to find me.”
Colin clenched his jaw. “I’ll keep you safe. I’ll?—”
“I know. But I have an idea,” she said. “And you’re probably going to hate it.”
Colin tilted his head. He wrapped his fingers around Maren’s hand.
“If they’re watching normal systems, then they’re watching normal tracks,” she said slowly.
Colin’s gaze sharpened. “What tracks?”
“My car. If I were looking for me, I’d look for my car on cameras. I’d look for my plates at gas stations, hotels, check my credit cards for charges. So, the only logical thing to do is to make them think I stopped in Denver for a couple of days, then moved on.”
“Maren—”
“No, listen. Mira and I were born in Iowa. We lived there until we were nine. If I had to run somewhere after my house was broken into, that’s believable, isn’t it? I’m running to someold family friend or relative, some place from before San Diego. I could call into work and tell them I’ve had an emergency that’s taken me out of town to Iowa and I need a week or so.”
Colin went very still. “So you want to send your car to Iowa.”
“I watch too many crime dramas, okay?” She grinned, trying to get him to listen. “I want to protect you guys,” Maren said. “If they’ve followed me here, let’s make them think I kept on going. So, what do you say?”
She held her breath as she watched Colin think it over.
