Page 146 of Dream On, Liar

“Don’t you live with Oliver and Raina?”

“In the city, yes. I’m talking about my cabin.”

She blinked. “And where exactly is this cabin?”

“Scotland.”

“You’re not serious.”

“I am. I’m going there right now.”

“Don’t lie.”

“I am not. I can give you my phone if you want to call and ask Raina and she’ll tell you that too. It’s why she asked me to drop off your suitcase on my way.”

She sighed. “I can’t go through an airport again, either. There’s so much drama just to get inside, and I told you. I’m not in the mood to deal with people.”

“Good thing I was going to drive up there, then.”

“That’s an eight-nine hour drive? Longer if you’re going up to the highlands.”

“Well, we are going to Edinburgh, and that is a seven hour drive.”

Her shoulders dropped. “Let me pack a bag.”

“Good girl.”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, kiss my arse, Patel.”

I smiled for the first time since I’d entered the place. “Sure, bend over and I’ll do just that.”

She gave me the finger, and my laugh followed her as she left her room.

THE FIRST THING I DID once we got back on the road was open my laptop.

Maeve sat curled into the passenger seat, one knee drawn up slightly, her blonde hair falling over one shoulder as she navigated through her banking apps on the small screen I'd managed to project across to the laptop. The glow from it painted her face in soft, shifting light—blue-white, clinical, almost too bright for how quiet she’d gone.

There was a stillness to her now that hadn’t been there before. Something tighter. Contained. Like she was holding herself together with the same focus she was using to type.

“Okay,” I said, turning the screen towards her. “Which ones?”

“All of them.”

“That narrows it down beautifully.”

She gave me a tired look, but there was no real bite in it. Just exhaustion sitting behind her eyes like a weight she hadn’t put down yet.

“My debit cards. Both.”

I clicked through the forms while she read the details aloud, her voice steadying only when she was giving instructions. It was easier for her that way—I could tell. Facts. Steps. Things that didn’t require her to sit inside what had just happened.

“Freeze them first. Then report stolen.”

“Already doing it.”

“You’re very bossy.”

“I’m currently the one whose entire bank account was nearly robbed.”