I don’t turn. My fingers curl slightly against the glass.
“Cason may have been the gun, but Malcolm pulled that trigger.”
Something in me shifts, sharp and ugly. Because I know he’s right. And it’s what Iwantto believe.
“It’s okay to forgive him,” Sebastian repeats. “What’s your gut tell you?”
Thatis easy.
I turn just enough to look at him over my shoulder, my voice low when I speak.
“That Cason ismine.”
Sebastian’s expression settles, like I just confirmed something he already knew. He pushes himself up from the chair and walks over, holding out his tablet with a steady hand.
I frown down at it. “What’s this for?”
“I put cameras in his apartment when I was there this morning.”
My vision darkens as something snaps inside me. I have to hold my shadows back, and Sebastian notices. He tilts his head, and his mouth curves.
“Yeah, I thought so,” he says, too fucking amused. “Figured you wouldn’t want me watching that feed. He’ll probably find the cameras quick anyway, but I’m not about to risk my head watching something I shouldn’t.”
I take a slow breath to calm down, then take the tablet from him.
I could count the times Sebastian and I haven’t seen eye to eye on one hand. Even though he probably thinks I’m being too intense, I’m glad this didn’t have to be one of those times.
After a beat, he turns and heads for the door.
“Try not to break anything important,” he adds as he leaves.
The door clicks shut behind him, and I’m left alone, the room too quiet and too still. I stare out at the darkness where Cason disappeared, my reflection faint in the glass, fractured bythe low light.
My shadows stir at my feet, restless.
Like they’re aware something is missing.
I don’t remember mostof the walk, and I know I should. Like there should be something there—landmarks, turns, the shape of the road, anything. But it’s all…smeared. Blurred at the edges like a corrupted file my brain refuses to open.
What Idoremember is the bag. Bright yellow. Obnoxiously bright, like someone wanted to make damn sure I didn’t miss it. It was sitting just off the road, half hidden in the grass. Somehow, I knew it was for me, but I opened it cautiously. Inside was a bottle of water, my phone, my glasses, and my keys. No note, no explanation.
Someone let me go.
As much as I want to believe it was Reese, my brain very rudely has convinced me it had to be someone who did so against his wishes. For what reason, fuck if I know.
I remember standing there for a solid minute, staring at the bag like it might bite me. Then I drank the water in three gulps, hands shaking, throat burning, and ordered a Lyft like a normal person who definitely hadn’t just escaped a superpowered ex-kidnapper’s murder basement.
The driver didn’t ask questions.
God bless rideshare culture.
By the time Iget back to my apartment, I’m running on fumes and spite. I barely make it through the door before everything in me just…gives out.
My knees hit first.
Then my hands.
Then the rest of me follows, collapsing onto the floor like a puppet with its strings cut.
