“Well, I’m here now,” I say with a weak smile. “What should I do?”
“What is expected of you?”
I offer a tired shrug. “I don’t know. Maybe if I break it off with River—”
“Do you want that?”
“No.”
“Then don’t.”
“But Teagan—”
“Teagan is a grown-ass woman, and she will get over it.” She shrugs. “Sooner or later, anyway. She always had a bit of a spoiled brat vibe about her. I remember steam coming out of her ears when something didn’t go exactly the way she wanted.”
I can’t stop a hearty laugh from rolling out of me. “Wow, Aunt Mary.”
“It’s the truth. Teagan is great, don’t get me wrong. And your friendship is special. All I can tell you is to give her time. She needs some discomfort right now. It leads to growth. I thinkyou’ll find her a lot more cooperative once she’s had some time and some space to process everything.”
“Her husband said something along the same lines.”
“Time, Christa. Time heals most wounds.”
Most wounds.
I wonder if I will ever heal from mine. The ones that linger even now. The ones that keep me fearful and distrustful and with one foot out the door, even when all I want is to let my roots thicken and take hold.
I’ll give Teagan the time she needs.
Maybe she’ll come back to me before it’s too late.
17
Christa
It’s been quiet. Spike hasn’t caught any new activity in the city’s dark web as far as I’m concerned.
Coast looks clear for now, his last message reads.
I have seen nothing other than that one note, I reply, fingers tapping across my smartphone screen as I rush through a maze of corridors on my way to a briefing in the developers’ room.
You’re fine, Spike writes.I’m tapped into your apartment building’s security system. Got facial recognition software running, just in case.
I send off a quick thank you and tuck my phone away.I can’t shake the persistent queasiness in the back of my throat. It follows me everywhere and it loves rearing its ugly head whenever I eat. At the same time, everything I eat tastes better than ever before—yet I can barely keep it down, especially in the morning.
“Christa, come on.” Colin steps out of the developers’ room with a worried look on his face. “We’re already late.”
“Sorry. I had something to take care of,” I reply, picking up the pace. “We’re good. I have everything uploaded into the cloud; don’t worry.”
“Not worried. I just want to get this over with so we can get back to finishing the beta version,” he says. “We’re so close.”
“Don’t I know it.” Yet as soon as I walk into the developers’ room, my knees soften a little too much.
“Are you okay?” Colin asks.
“Yeah, why?”
“You look pale.”