Page 110 of Things We Left Behind
It was late by the time I got home and showered the arson off me. I collapsed on my king-size bed and blew out a long breath.
The lamp on my nightstand cast a quiet glow on my copy ofThe Midnight Library. I wondered if she was reading right now. Or if maybe, just maybe she was lying in her bed thinking of me.
I doubted it. Every time I saw Sloane, she looked both surprised and disappointed to realize I still existed.
I shouldn’t be the only one losing sleep. I picked up my phone. It took me a minute to settle on the right approach. Iscrolled through my contacts, found the one I was looking for, and sent it off.
When the message wasn’t immediately read, I threw the phone onto the bedspread next to me and covered my face with my hands.
I was an idiot. A weak, undisciplined idiot. Just because we’d managed to share a civil lunch together didn’t mean…
The phone vibrated against the plush bedspread.
I dove for it.
Sloane:What did you just send me?
Me:The contact information for an attorney who specializes in appeals. She’s expecting your call tomorrow. You’re welcome.
I saw three dots appear, then disappear. I stared at the screen, willing them to reappear. Thirty seconds later, they did.
Sloane:Thanks.
It took that much effort for her to type one word to me?
What was I even doing? I could have had an assistant send her the information. Hell, I could have had an assistant give the information to Lina, who actually worked in my office. I didn’t need to be texting Sloane at—I swiveled to glare at the clock. It was almost midnight.
Disgusted with myself, I tossed my phone on the nightstand and stacked my hands under my head.
The phone vibrated again.
I pulled a neck muscle pouncing on it.
Sloane:Lina told me what happened to Holly today. Is she okay?
Rubbing my neck, I debated waiting to respond, then decided I was too tired to play games.
Me:Everyone is fine.
Sloane:Are you okay?
Was I? I didn’tfeelokay. I felt like things were unspooling, slipping from my fingers. I’d made a career of foreseeing every contingency, every play. Yet I’d missed this one. What else was I missing? And why was I slipping now?
Me:I’m fine.
Sloane:My phone has this cool bullshit detector app, and that “sorry, wrong answer” buzzer noise just went off. It scared the cat.
Me:I’m fine. Just tired.
Sloane:You do know it’s not your job to protect everyone from everything, don’t you?
But it was my job to protect my people from my actions and the consequences of those actions.
Me:I saw your mother tonight.
No dots appeared. I’d pushed too far. Or she’d fallen asleep.
I was just dumping my phone on the nightstand again when it rang.
