Page 146 of The Fine Line

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I don’t.

A knock sounds at the door—sharp but lazy.

Then the handle creaks open without waiting for an answer.

“Yo,” Sid calls. His voice is light. Carefree.

Like we’re not both in freefall.

Like none of it matters.

“Hey,” I reply without turning around.

“How was the game last night?”

I snort. “Sucked.”

“Damn,” he tsks. There’s a pause. I can hear the sound of him dropping his keys on the counter. “Wanna go out?”

I blow out a slow breath, still staring at the headlines. Still not seeing them.

Still not feeling them.

The ache, the disappointment, the fear—it’s buried somewhere too deep now.

I spin around to face him, shoving my hands into the pockets of my jeans.

“Yeah,” I say. My voice is calm. Hollow.

“Yeah, I do.”

I turn back to the coffee table. Flip open the old wooden jewelry box with faded flowers painted on the lid—the one I thrifted to make it look like harmless decor. I grab what’s left of my stash, shoving it into my pockets without a second thought.

I don’t even ask where we’re going.

I just follow Sid out the door.

thirty-three

CAROLINE

Detroit, MI, USA

I walk through the arena doors and hand my ID to the security guard—Eddie, according to his name tag. He gives it a glazed-over glance, then double-takes, looking up.

“Barrett,” he says. “Jim Barrett’s… daughter?”

I nod. “Yep?—”

“Wait!” a young woman behind him gasps. She’s wearing a security jacket and sitting at the check-in table. “You’re married to Rhett Sutton, right?”

“Guilty,” I say with a tight smile.

“Oh my God,” she says, grinning behind her hand. “You guys are so cute?—”

“Maddy,” Eddie cuts in. “Can you get her a badge?”

“Oh!” she blurts, flustered. “Yes, of course.”

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