That tone.
Firm. Certain. No room for argument.
It should’ve annoyed me.
Instead, relief tried to sneak through my panic.
I hated that too.
“You stay here until Agent Jones arrives.”
“Hersh—”
“You don’t go anywhere alone.”
“I don’t need babysitting.”
“No,” he said evenly. “You need protection.”
The word wrapped around me before I could stopit.
Protection.
I hadn’t felt protected in months.
I’d felt hunted.
Alone.
Disposable.
But Hersh?
Hersh looked at me like somebody would have to go through him first.
And something inside me nearly broke because of it.
My eyes burned suddenly.
No.
Absolutely not.
I would not cry in front of him.
Not after sixteen years.
Not after everything.
I looked away fast.
Too late.
Hersh saw it.
Of course he did.
His voice softened immediately. “Hey.”
