Page 59 of Deep Tide

He set the bag on the counter and tucked his phone away while Leyla stacked the empty milk crates by the wall.

“So, are things going okay or—”

“Fine.” She reached around him and opened the fridge again. She grabbed a block of butter to soften for the frosting she planned to make later.

“Leyla.”

She turned to him.

“Stop. Jesus. I’m trying to talk to you.”

She took a deep breath and nodded.

“How are you?” he asked.

“I’m okay.”

He just looked at her, those blue eyes pinning her in place. Her father used to look at her that same way when he interrogated her about her activities the previous night.

“Really, Owen. I’m fine.”

“Then why do you keep dodging my calls?”

“I’ve been busy.”

“Well, we’re worried about you.”

“We?”

“Me. Macey. Mom,” he said. “You’re avoiding everyone.”

“I’m not avoiding anyone.”

He shook his head and looked away.

“Really. I’ve just been swamped with everything going on right now. You’re swamped, too. You can’t tell me you don’t get it.”

“No, I get it. Just—” He folded his arms over his chest, and she could tell he didn’t like how this conversation was going. “I’ve been worried that this thing with Amelia might be bringing up some stuff for you.”

She stiffened. “No.”

“No?”

“No. I’m fine.”

“Are you?” He watched her. “Because, you know, you never really told me what happened when you were mugged in New York.”

“Yeah, I did. I was mugged in New York. That’s what happened.”

He stared at her, as if willing her to say more.

Leyla stared right back. He was determined to get her to talk about this. She was determined to avoid it. And she had the advantage here because the topic of her assault at knifepoint five years ago was way, way out of her brother’s comfort zone.

And the fact that he’d brought it up anyway put an ache in her chest.

She reached over and squeezed his arm. “I’m okay. Really.”

He didn’t look convinced.

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