Page 46 of True Colors

Her breathing changes gradually—from shallow and sharp to slow, uneven, and thready.

She’s melting into me. This is trust. Raw and unguarded.

It feels like someone is handing me a glass heart and begging me not to drop it.

After a while, I don’t know how long, a knock sounds at the door.

She flinches violently.

“It’s okay,” I murmur. “It’s Finn.”

Her eyes widen, panic slipping in.

I squeeze her hand. “He’s here for you.”

There’s a muffled noise from the outside. “Annie? You in there, baby? It’s Finn.”

I stand, not letting go of her hand until the last possible second. Then I open the door.

Finn is in uniform pants and a firehouse T-shirt, hair still damp like he ran water through it before leaving.

His eyes sweep the room in one hard, assessing pass.

They land on Anouk. The hardness disappears instantly, replaced by fierce concern.

“Annie,” he breathes.

She looks so small in the chair, shoulders caved inward.

“Hey,” he says softly, crouching in front of her.

Her face crumples. Finn cups the back of her head, pulling her forehead to his.

“I’ve got you,” he murmurs. “I’ve got you.”

I step back, giving them space.

Finn looks up at me. I brace for anger, for suspicion, for a punch to the jaw—because I don’t know what he knows or what he assumes.

He surprises me by saying, “Thank you. Thank you for staying with her.”

I swallow. “Of course.”

Finn slides his arm around her shoulders. “Come on, Annie. Let’s get you home.”

She stands shakily.

Before they leave, she looks back at me.

Her eyes—usually bright—are dim and raw, but there’s something else there, too.

Recognition? Connection? There’s a fragile thread tied between us, which snaps tight in my chest.

“Luther, thank you,” she whispers.

“You’re most welcome,” I reply simply.

She lets Finn lead her out.