The security team melted back into the shadows around the house. Franco climbed the steps, and his bodyguard pulled open the front door.
A gust of cold air rushed in, making the heavy curtains by the window billow. Laura sat nearby, a book in her hand, her palm bandaged from that morning’s fall out of her wheelchair.
The second she saw Franco, relief and leftover fear crossed her face. Her voice shook. “Franco, I’m so glad you’re here.”
Parrish really had some skills. He’d somehow tracked her down, all the way to this place.
Her wheelchair whirred, carrying her over to Franco. “I honestly thought Parrish’s people were going to take me. It was that close.”
She hesitated, trying to sound casual. “Any idea when I can go back to The Glades? This house is nice, but the old place just feels better.” She glanced around. “It’s silly, but I don’t think I’ll sleep much tonight. Everything’s too new.”
Franco’s face was unreadable. Cold. The happiness Laura felt blinked out, and she searched his eyes, uncertain. “Franco? What’s wrong?”
He cut her off sharply. “Are you done?”
His voice wasn’t raised, but it felt like being drenched in ice water.
Laura froze. “Franco, I—”
“Why do you think Parrish could find this place?” His voice was calm, but each word landed squarely in the quiet.
The question hit Laura in the chest, sending her mind spinning. She looked up, searching for a way to explain. “I didn’t—”

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