Page 50 of A Pen Pal for Christmas

He grinned. “Let’s go.”

The trip across the hall was quick, Hudson sticking close but giving me enough space to grab what I needed. I tried not to linger on the mess, the chaotic reminder of last night’s violation. Instead, I focused on gathering some clothes and toiletries and tossing them into a tote bag.

My eyes lingered on a few of my favorite books, now tattered and torn.

“There’s a bookstore in town,” he said quietly. “A library too, if you’d rather.”

It was such a simple, silly thing, but it was so sweet that I had to close my eyes and keep my face angled away from him for a moment so I could will the tears away. And when I was sure Ihad them under control, I picked up my bag and faced him. “Can I change in your bathroom?”

“Yep.” He led me out of the room and waited while I locked the door—not that that had helped much last night.

“Wait— At the risk of sounding like a true crime junkie,” I hedged, “do you know if there were signs of forced entry? My mind is mush, but I swear I used my key to unlock the door when I got back from girls’ night.”

Hudson pursed his lips, sticking his hands in his pockets. “These brass keys are cute for the vibe of the place, but picking a lock like this is a lot easier than getting through the electronic ones at modern hotels.”

I nodded numbly. “Got it.”

He led me into his room, and the second I stepped out of the bathroom in clean clothes and freshly-brushed teeth, everything felt better. But I still desperately needed some?—

“Coffee?” Hudson asked.

I chuckled. “Yes, please.”

Downstairs,the dining room was quiet except for the soft hum of conversation from a few guests at nearby tables. Hudson headed straight for the coffee bar, and I followed, already anticipating that first sip like it was a lifeline.

Before I could reach for a cup, Joan appeared from the other side of the room, her face a mix of concern and sympathy. “Sofia,” she said softly, stopping in front of me. “I just wanted to say I’m so sorry about what happened. I can’t imagine how awful that must’ve been.”

“Thanks,” I said, my voice a little hoarse. “It was… a lot.”

“I almost went in and cleaned it up for you,” Joan said, twisting her hands in front of her. “I thought it might be nice to take it off your plate, but then I realized that might feel like another violation of your space. I didn’t want to overstep.”

Her thoughtfulness caught me off guard, a wave of gratitude swelling in my chest. “Thanks for thinking of that,” I said sincerely. “I really appreciate it.”

Joan offered a small smile. “Of course. And… I heard the break-in probably happened between six and seven.”

“Yeah, that’s what we’re thinking.”

Joan sighed. “I slipped your pen pal letter under your door not long after you left. I feel terrible about the timing. Maybe if I’d delivered it while he was in there?—”

“You might have been hurt,” I cut in, resting my hand on her arm. “Don’t think like that. I’m glad you weren’t anywhere near my room when it happened.”

She nodded, but then a thought struck me—one I couldn’t ignore. I hadn’t seen any pen pal letters in my room when I’d surveyed the damage. Not the new one Joan had apparently slipped under my door, and not the ones I’d kept in my bedside table. That drawer had been wide open and empty.

Had Dane taken all of my pen pal letters, including the new one, leaving one of those prison letters in their place?

And that sickening thought had me calling up the lingering suspicion that Hudson might be my pen pal, and it almost made it worse thinking it washisletters that were taken. Now that we’d shared that amazing kiss, if he was the man behind those letters, it hurt even worse to know they were gone.

But, I still didn’t know if my mystery man was Hudson. If he was, that was that. But if he wasn’t…

My gut churned. Then who was he?

My pulse quickened, and I opened my mouth, ready to ask Joan directly. But before I could get the words out, Hudsonreturned with two steaming mugs. He handed one to me, his brow lifting slightly as Joan stepped away. “What were you two talking about?”

Banishing thoughts of secret identities, I told him the next best thing. “I think Dane might’ve taken my pen pal letters.”

Hudson’s jaw clenched.

“Joan just told me she’d delivered a new letter last night, and it wasn’t in the room. I would’ve seen it. I know I would’ve.”

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