“That’s not the point and you know it.”
Annika walks over and sets one of the coffees onmy desk. “Birdie threatened to send J.D. after you if you skipped dinner again.”
“That’s emotional terrorism.”
“That’s family,” Parker corrects.
I unfold the letter again without meaning to.
Parker notices instantly.
Unfortunately, all O’Ryans operate like emotionally unstable FBI profilers.
His eyes narrow. “Oh my God.”
“No.”
“You’re reading one of her letters.”
Annika’s gaze softens slightly. “Still nothing?”
The fact that Annika asks gently instead of curiously makes something in my chest pull tight.
“No,” I say.
Parker drops into the chair across from me. “Bro, at this point she either joined the CIA or murdered someone.”
“She didn’t murder anyone.”
“You defended her awful fast.”
Becoming even more defensive, I snap, “She cries during animal rescue videos.”
Parker blinks. “That tells you absolutely nothing.”
“Maybe she’s sick?”
Annika hides a smile behind her coffee cup, and it wouldn’t shock me if she hears the desperation in my voice.
My phone buzzes against the desk. Every muscle in my body locks.
Parker notices first. Annika notices second.
Dara quietly backs toward the door because she’s smarter than everyone else in this room.
The notification flashes across my computerscreen.
Every muscle in my body tightens, hoping it’s my online friend.
“You get weird every time one of your million devices goes off,” Parker says, pointing at me.
“Fair.”
I ignore him and open the email.
FROM: HR — Synatrix Global Interactive
My brow furrows.
