Page 126 of In Shadows We Dance

I have no other way to contact him. No way to know if he's figured it out. But Iknowhim. I know the way his mind works—obsessive, relentless, always searching for answers. If anyone can decode what I left behind, it’s him.

He’ll understand. He always understands.

Six minutes.

Footsteps sound in the hallway. One of Agent Miller’s men, getting ready to move us to whatever planned safe house they've arranged. To pack me away in some quiet corner where no one will ever find me.

Where Wren will never find me.

The thought twists like a knife, but I keep my face neutral. My mom’s fingers brush my arm.

"The ice machine," she whispers. "It blocks the security camera's view of the back fence."

Five minutes.

My eyes burn as I pull Wren’s hoodie tighter around me, breathing him in. The faint scent grounds me. It’s stupid how much comfort I take from it, how much I let it tether me to the decision I’ve already made.

Wrenisdangerous.

But not to me.

Not when he’s the only person who ever looked at me like I was somebody. Not when he’s the reason I understand what it means to feel alive.

Four minutes.

My mother slips something into my pocket. I don't need to look to know what it is. Emergency cash. A final gift. Enough to keep me going for a couple of days.

“Be smart,” she whispers.

Three minutes.

I close my eyes.Be smart.I’ve spent my entire life being smart. Being silent, careful, invisible. But being smart doesn’t make mealive. Wren did that, with his darkness and his obsession, and the way he made me feel seen.

Two minutes.

The agent at the back will be due for his smoke break soon. My mother knows it, and I know it. She doesn’t say goodbye, but when her eyes meet mine, I see the truth she won’t speak out loud. She’s afraid for me, but she understands.

“I love you.”

I can’t say it back. Not now. Not when the words feel like they might break me apart.

One minute.

“I need to use the bathroom.” The words are casual, butmy heart is hammering when I stand, picking up my bag. The agent in the hallway doesn’t even glance at me as I step inside the bathroom. I lock the door behind me and count to twenty.

Time's up.

The window is small, but I’m used to making myself smaller. Used to moving through spaces no one else notices.

The night air hits my face as I ease through the opening. I move like a shadow through the parking lot, between the lights, merging with the darkness. It’s always been my refuge, but tonight it’s more. It’s become my weapon.

The cash in my pocket feels like a lifeline and a promise.

I’m not runningaway. I’m runningtoward.

They’ll expect a scared girl, someone stumbling, unsure. They’ll look for me in all the predictable places. They won’t expect me to move like this. Through alleys and empty spaces, faster than they can follow.

North and west. The direction I chose. The direction I gave Wren.

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