“The last part.”
Her smile comes easily. “I’ve loved every stop so far.”
“I know.”
She doesn’t ask where we’re going. I know she’s wondering. She just trusts me enough not to ask.
I squeeze her fingers. “You don’t even know where I’m taking you.”
“I don’t need to.”
“No?”
She shakes her head. “I trust you.”
The words hit harder than she realizes.
Trust.
I’ve spent most of my adult life protecting it.
Not because I didn’t want it. Because I couldn’t afford to give it to the wrong person.
I tighten my hand around hers.
“I’m glad.”
She studies me for a long moment. “You’re nervous again.”
“A little.”
“About showing me wherever we’re going?”
I nod.
“Why?”
I keep my eyes on the road.
“Because this isn’t just another building.”
She waits.
“It isn’t another memory.” My fingers shift beneath hers. “It isn’t another story from my childhood.”
The lights of Frostholm begin glowing in the distance, but I barely notice them.
“This is the one part of my life I’ve never really let anyone see.”
“You’ll understand in a few minutes.”
Annette’s expression softens. She doesn’t press. She simply laces our fingers together again.
“Okay.”
That’s all she says. Okay.
As though trusting me is the easiest thing in the world. I’m not sure I’ve done anything to deserve that kind of faith. But I spend the rest of the drive hoping I can.