“I know you.”
“Yes, you do,” I say, and I can’t see it in the dark, his smile, but I can feel it now.
“And you know me,” he continues.
“Yes, I do,” I say.
“I’d tear the whole world apart for you,” he says, and it’s not romantic, even though it should be. It’s so matter-of-fact, this secret truth now sprouted between us, like my name and my real hair color and the stories behind my scars; also things that only he knows.
“And I’d burn it down for you.”
“You almost burned it down around me today,” he points out, and when Iris murmurs, “That was me, actually,” between us, it startles a painful laugh out of my lungs that sounds strange because it’s not hollow.
“I stand corrected,” Wes says, trying to suppress a smile.
“I can’t let her take credit for my pyrotechnic skills,” Iris says, sounding prim even when squished between the pillows and the two of us. “Now both of you need to lie down and try to sleep. You can make vows of loyalty to each other like medieval knights next week. I’ll weave some flower crowns and wear a nice dress for the occasion.”
“I like poppies,” Wes says.
“Noted.”
“All your dresses are nice,” I add.
“I know. Now, please, some of us need sleep. My mom’s plane will be landing in a few hours and she’s going to be an emotional tornado.”
“Lee’s getting your mom at the airport. She’ll have her calmed down by the time they drive back up,” I say gently, but she shakes her head.
“I was a hostage in a bank robbery. Mom will never be calm again. She’s going to get one of those toddler backpack leashes in my size and make me wear it.”
Wes presses his lips together so tight they disappear trying not to laugh.
“You’re okay now, and you saved the day,” I remind her when I’m sure I won’t laugh, because her mom is overprotective . . . and now I have some insight why.
“That last thing is not going to help.”
“What will?” Wes asks.
“Sleep,” she says, her eyelids drooping again. “I just need to sleep a little until the next designated borderline-concussion wake-up call.”
So he lies down to her right, and I lie down to her left.
We curve around her like parentheses; Iris is some precious phrase between us that needs the shelter of our crooked knees and tucked hands under chins, breath skating in the space between that makes up all three of us now, along with our secrets, exposed and not.
The world is tilting again. But I have people to hold on to. People to fight for. And that is so different than just fighting for yourself.
I don’t sleep. I watch them instead, these people who have become the core of me just as much as the girls who’ve lived under my skin, and I think about what I have to lose.
It’s too much. And I’m not enough.
But somehow, I’ll have to be.
— 65 —
August 18 （10 days free）
2 safe-deposit keys （stashed in my room）
It takes ten days before certain parts of the internet light up with talk about Ashley Keane. There are no specifics—not yet. And it’s not enough talk to be totally unusual this time of year. But it’s enough to give me the confirmation I need: He knows where I am.
Wes shows up after breakfast the morning my alerts start going wild. His mom’s been insisting he stay at home with her, and it’s been the kind of tug-of-war we haven’t had in a long time. “Have you seen?” he asks.
I nod, but hold a finger to my lips. Lee’s still in the kitchen, eating the oatmeal I made. She’s actually going to work today.
“Let’s go for a drive,” I tell him.
He takes us out past the edge of town to one of the lookout points on the winding climb toward the clouds. I get out without asking when he parks, before pulling down the tailgate and clambering into the bed.
He settles on one side and I sit down on the other, my back against the wheel hub.
“They’re buzzing about Ashley again,” he says. “I’d hoped it would take longer.”
“No actual description or location, though. He’s keeping the real information close.”
“What are we going to do?” he asks me.
The truck bed yawns between us, an ever-widening chasm, and only he has the rope to toss to me. When I told him who I was, I told him everything. Which meant telling him my fail-safe that even Lee doesn’t know about.