“I got checked. The paramedic cleared me to leave.”
“That is not the same as being okay.”
“Joyce.”
“I am coming to get you.”
I glance toward the hallway as Zain reappears carrying a folded stack of clothes and a towel.
“I already have somewhere to stay.”
He stops near the kitchen.
Joyce catches the change in my voice immediately.
“Where?”
“Nowhere.”
“Kaia.”
I close my eyes. Apparently, I am emotionally attached to two people who can turn my name into an interrogation technique.
“I’m at Zain’s.”
Silence.
“Joyce?”
“Chief Carson’s?”
“How many Zains do you know?”
“The terrifyingly hot one with the broad shoulders?”
Heat climbs my neck.
I turn away from the kitchen and lower my voice. “Please stop talking.”
“The one who looks like he could carry a woman one-handed and permanently ruin her standards?”
“Joyce.”
“Oh my God.”
“He can probably hear you.”
“Is he close?”
“No.”
From behind me, Zain says, “Finish the water.”
Joyce goes silent.
I close my eyes.
Then she whispers, “Oh my God.”
