Page 70 of Seeking Shadows

She chews her bottom lip. Her fingers twitch under mine. “Feels like a lie. Or like… if it’s true, then what have I been doing?”

“I don’t know,” I admit. “But I think Charlie could help you figure that out.”

That gets her attention.

Her head snaps up, eyes locked on mine. “You think I should go see Charlie?”

I keep my tone gentle, careful. “Do you think it would help? Just to check in.”

She lets out a laugh—dry and sharp. “You want me to march into Crow territory while we’re practically living in Nico’s shadow?”

“Mia…”

“You’re Zane,” she says, quieter this time. “I know you’re hiding behind Reign right now, but I know you. And I know what going to Charlie means.”

“It’s just a thought,” I say. “If you’re not okay—”

“I’m not,” she cuts in. “But walking into Charlie’s office would be like setting off a flare. She’s Society, Zane. You think Nico wouldn’t hear about that in minutes?”

I stay quiet. I don’t have a good answer. She’s right.

She exhales through her nose, like she’s trying to calm a storm inside her. “I do miss her, you know. Charlie. She never treated me like I was broken.”

Then, like she’s decided that thread of truth is too heavy to carry, she switches tones.

“So. How’s Zane?”

I blink. “That’s me, remember?”

She smirks. “Right. Just checking if you were still in there somewhere. You’ve been doing a really good broody spy impression lately. Ten out of ten.”

I manage a laugh. “He’s fine. Misses being just a tattoo artist.”

Her face lights up. “See? That’s the stuff. Hidden identity, ink-stained hands, lonely boy heart—this is premium drama material. Give it a tragic love story and I’m sold.”

“You’re deflecting.”

“I’m romanticizing,” she corrects with a grin. “Makes everything more bearable.”

“Mia.”

She bites her lip. Her expression crumbles just a little.

“I don’t always know what’s real,” she admits. “Sometimes it’s just... voices. Or people I’ve lost. And I go along with it because it’s easier than trying to fight it.”

“You don’t have to fight it alone.”

She glances away. “You must think I’m out of my mind.”

“I think you’ve been through more than anyone ever should.”

She goes still. Then whispers, “And you stayed.”

“Of course I did.”

She shakes her head. “But why? You could’ve had peace. Ink and silence and no ghosts whispering through the walls.”

“Because it’s you,” I say. “And I’m not leaving.”

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