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“I shouldn’t have said that.” Tristan pushed a lock of hair from her face. “None of them would ever say a word if they found out. They’d respect you more for helping, for—”
“You were right the first time. How’d you get here? No one gets into my compound without me knowing about it.”
“Even after all this time, you doubt my abilities?”
“Keep your voice down.”
Tristan stepped away from the window and twirled around her room, his eyes locking on every piece of furniture, every pillow, every picture. He peeked inside her closet, studying every uniform and dress and pair of shoes. He even poked his head into her bathroom.
“It’s not what I thought it would be.”
“What did you think it would be?”
“I thought there would be more to it somehow. Bigger? Filled with expensive things? Like priceless art and a golden bathtub. You don’t belong here, Lila. It’s too drab. You’re too alive for a place like this.”
“The fewer things you have in a room, the easier and faster it is to scan for bugs.”
“You do that nonsense in your own bedroom?”
“Every time I come home.”
“I thought you said no one could get into your compound.”
“I don’t do it for outsiders.”
Tristan tilted his head.
“I was six months old the first time someone tried to hurt me. A member of the family slipped poison into my bottle. I should have died, reducing the prime’s queue. Checking for bugs is almost quaint in comparison.”
His jaw dropped. “I can’t believe you have to be that vigilant with your own family. You’re supposed to trust them. Dixon never had to do that stuff.”
“Dixon is male and probably wasn’t that important in the grand scheme of things.”
“He was important enough.” He fingered the silver coat of arms above her couch. “Do you test this as well?”
&
nbsp; “It’s the first place anyone tries to plant a bug. It’s symbolic, I suppose. I wouldn’t even keep it on the wall, but my sister made it, and I couldn’t put up anything else she made me.”
“That bad?”
“No, her work is exquisite, but none of it is right for me.”
He wandered back over to her dresser and picked up a picture among the two dozen frames. In it, a very young Lila and a fair-haired girl bowed their heads over a bowl of dough, cheeks brushed with flour. “Is this Holly?”
Lila took the photo and settled it carefully back on her dresser. “Why are you here, Tristan? Why are you on my compound?”
Tristan’s arms snaked around her waist, and he dropped his chin on top of her head. “Because I missed you. You don’t miss me when I’m not around, do you?”
Lila shrugged and lifted her lips, knowing why he’d really come.
She wanted it too.
He pulled away. “I didn’t come here for that, Lila.”
“You found something?”
“No, but we’re still looking.”
