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“I’m sorry, Miss?”

“The boxes, Paul. The ones you pulled from under the counter and said they didn’t have a sender address on them, and you usually found them in front of the building.”

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about, Miss. I’ve never seen such packages. Besides, you already directed all your packages to your new address.”

“There were boxes.” My voice rises as my hold tightens around the phone. “I received the first one two months ago and the last one came yesterday.”

“I didn’t see you yesterday, Miss. I took the day off for my dentist appointment.”

No, no, no…

“Stop playing with me, Paul.” My voice is brittle, but it’s also on the verge of breaking all hell loose.

“Excuse me, Miss?”

Jonathan takes the phone from my fingers, even as I try to fight for its possession. “Thank you.”

Two words. Two mere words and then he hangs up. His gaze trails up to my face as if I’m an injured animal on its death bed.

“Stop looking at me like that.” My voice cracks.

“Like what?”

“Like you think I’m insane. I’m not.”

> “All right.”

“I am not. I received those packages.”

“Okay.”

“Stop it.” I hit his chest. “Stop it! Stop it! I’m not crazy, okay?”

Jonathan prisons both my hands against his chest, stopping my tantrum. They lie limp in his hold, exhaustion and confusion rearing at my nerve endings.

“You need rest, Aurora. You haven’t slept properly in two days.”

He stands up and reaches for me, and I pull back, leaning on my hands.

“You’ll aggravate your wound.” He places one hand on my back and the other underneath my legs and carries me in his arms.

I don’t fight. I feel like if I do, I’ll really be labelled crazy.

And I’m not. I had those vocal messages from Alicia. I don’t care what Jonathan or anyone else says about it.

He quickly crosses the distance between my room and his upstairs. The entire time, I keep watching his face, the way that line remains between his brows.

God damn that line. Why the fuck isn’t it disappearing?

Jonathan places me on his bed, then softly pulls the cover to my chin.

But he doesn’t join me. He doesn’t even attempt to. And the realisation that he won’t share a bed with me slices me deeper than I’d like to admit.

“Sleep, Aurora.”

“I’m not crazy.”

“I never said you were.”

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