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“Not as bad as you’d think,” I reply.

She stands. “I’ll be right back.”

I remain where I am, unsure exactly where she’s going, but about a minute later, she’s coming back down the hall with a worn leather Bible. “This was hers.” She hands it to me, and I try to ignore the small droplets of dried blood on the cover. “She had it with her when she was killed.”

I run my hand over the leather, noting just how broken in it is. Well-loved.

“I don’t remember a night when she wasn’t reading this. Or a morning when I came out of my room and she wasn’t sitting at the table. Cup of coffee and this open in front of her.”

Because I sense she needs to just let it out, I remain silent, holding the Bible in my hands.

“I hated it for a long time. It’s silly, I know, to hate paper and ink. But I was so angry that she died. That she and my dad didn’t get a chance to retire and spend their life the way they wanted to. I’m still in so much pain knowing that I’ll never get to see them again. But I think I’m—” She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. “Being able to talk to you about them has made the pain more bearable because it feels like a part of them is still here with me.”

I reach over and take her hand in mine. “A part of them will always be with you.”

“I want to let go of the anger. I want to have the same understanding that you do. The same faith. I just don’t know where to start.”

God, please give me the right words here.

I hand her the Bible. “It starts right here, Kennedy. In the word. Reading His promises. Asking for Him to open your heart.”

She clutches the Bible to her chest, holding on to it like a lifeline.

“Why don’t we start together?” I offer. “We can read together. Would that help?”

“Really?” Relief floods her expression. “You’d do that? Help me get started?”

There isn’t a single thing I wouldn’t do for you,I want to say. Instead, I shove that declaration back down and simply say, “Absolutely.”

CHAPTER 29

KENNEDY

Iclose the Bible in my lap and set it aside to stretch. It’s nearly ten in the morning, and I’ve already been up for what feels like half the day. I wish I could say it’s getting easier to be trapped inside all the time, but that would be a lie.

Truthfully, it’s triggering a whole bucketload of fear, given the last time I was in this similar situation, I didn’t see the attack coming. I try to tell myself it’s different this time. That this time around, it’s not U.S. Marshals guarding the house but soldiers. People who came to my aid when they didn’t have to. They chose to help me. They weren’t ordered to do it.

After grabbing a glass of water from the kitchen, I head into the bathroom where the only window I’m allowed to look out of resides. It’s blocks of frosted glass, so while I can see the natural light outside, no one can actually see me.

This is miserable.

Not that being in this house with Lani and Bradyn has been awful. In fact, they’re the best parts of it. We’ve spent almost every night this past week playing board games or watching old movies.

While Tucker and Elijah haven’t gotten any closer to cracking the code without a key to go off of, Bradyn remains hopeful thatthey’ll figure it out and promises me that he’s working on a Plan B if that one fails.

Something that will free me from these chains.

With nothing else to do, I head back into the kitchen and check the cookies I put in the oven. It’s my mom’s recipe, one I memorized since I’d helped her in the kitchen for as long as I could remember.

Mom.My eyes get a bit misty, and I take a deep breath. She would’ve loved it here on the ranch. Every year, we’d binge-watch cheesy Christmas movies where the big city girl fell for the flannel-wearing cowboy and gave up everything to move to his ranch. Dad used to joke that it was the only real fear he had.

I smile to myself and set the hot pan on top of the stove to sit for just a few minutes before I move the cookies to the cooling rack.

The front door opens, and Bradyn stalks in. I start to greet him with a smile then notice the twisted rage on his face. “What is it?” All happiness drains out of me.

“You need to see this.” He grabs the remote from the end table and turns on the TV. After flipping a few channels, he stops at the news.

Senator Alexander Brown is not a man I’ll ever forget.

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