My stomach drops.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No, he’s not.”
“He told me where to find you.”
I stare at Rory because I can’t think for a second.
My brain feels like when I dropped my pencil box at school, and all the crayons rolled everywhere.
Messy.
Wrong.
Everywhere.
“He didn’t,” I whisper.
Rory’s voice gets softer.
“He did. He needed you gone.”
“No.”
“He has enemies, Livy. He has a dangerous life. You and your mama made things harder for him.”
“That’s not true.”
“He didn’t want to hurt your feelings, so he asked me to take you somewhere safe.”
My eyes fill with tears.
“Liar,” I whisper.
Rory’s face tightens again.
“Be careful.”
“My Mav would never do that.”
“He isn’t yours.”
“Yes, he is.”
He stares at me for a long second.
Then he picks up the water bottle and twists off the cap.
“You need to drink.”
“I don’t want anything from you.”
“You need to keep your strength up.”
“I said no.”
