Page 57 of The Turning of the Tables

“And you can’t talk to anyone else, because…?”

“Noah’s mad at me.”

“Should he be?”

“Probably.”

“Anyone else?”

“I don’t have anyone else.” That was a gut-punch to admit out loud.

“What about Val—Hart?”

“Hart isn’t exactly your friendly neighborhood elf.”

He laughed. “I’ll tell you a secret.”

“What?”

“He absolutely does have emotions.”

“No way. Not possible.”

“Yep. But only to me. And Taavi.”

“Hart doesn’t really people.”

“True.”

“You aren’t people. Well. Human people.” I winced. That sounded bad.

But Elliot laughed again. “No, I suppose not. Taavi does emotions much better.”

I hummed. “Yeah, but… I don’t know him. Noah does. They used to work together. He seems nice, but…” I trailed off.

“So I’m it?”

When he put it that way, it sounded even worse. And absolutely violated Rule Two. “Sorry.” I hung up and let myself fall sideways on the bed—because I was drinking sitting in bed, like the absolute loser I am—staring off into space.

My phone lit up again.

I stared at it, confused.

It went dark.

Then lit up again.

“You don’t have to talk to me,” I told him.

“I know.”

But he didn’t hang up. This time, neither did I.

“They were kids,” I blurted.

“The bodies?” he guessed.

“Yeah.”