“I don’t need anything, but thanks.”

Milly opened the window a little wider. “There’s a bathroom opposite. I put out clean towels and a new T-shirt you can wear to bed if you want it.”

Nicole felt emotion thicken her throat. She hadn’t been there in Milly’s hour of need, but still Milly had shown up for her. More than that. She’d done everything she could to make Nicole comfortable.

“Thank you. Do I need to be careful walking around the boathouse at night? What if I need a glass of water? Do I need to turn off the alarm?”

“What alarm?”

“The intruder alarm.” Nicole’s palms felt sweaty. “You don’t have one?”

“No. There’s virtually no crime around here, so you can relax. And I don’t have air-conditioning either, sorry. There are only about three weeks in the year when we need it. It’s typical that you happen to be here during those three weeks, so I put a fan out. That’s the best I can do.” Milly walked to the door, and Nicole felt a sudden desperate need not to be left alone.

She didn’t care about air-conditioning. What she wanted was company. Friendship. She’d often felt isolated in her life, but never like this. She wanted to talk. She wanted to put everything right between them. She wasn’t willing or ready to accept that she’d killed what they had.

“Milly—”

“I hope you manage to sleep.” Milly paused with her hand on the door. “If you need anything, call me.”

Nicole knew that what she was offering was a glass of water, or an extra pillow. Not comfort. Not a hug.

Milly was shutting her down, which didn’t surprise her because Milly always avoided difficult conversations and this definitely met that description.

She waited while Milly closed the door between them.

The gesture felt symbolic.

Exhausted, Nicole followed Milly’s directions to the bathroom, scrubbed off her makeup, took a quick shower to remove the last of the persona she’d adopted to travel here safely and slipped on the T-shirt Milly had thoughtfully left out for her.

Then she headed back to the bedroom. She searched for a lock on the door, but there wasn’t one, so she dragged a chair up to it and wedged it under the handle. Then she closed the window. She didn’t care if it was stifling. She wasn’t sleeping with the window open.

After a last check of the room, she slid between the fresh-smelling sheets and closed her eyes.

She had no expectation of sleeping, but she must have slept because when she woke the first fingers of light were sliding through the blinds.

For a few blissful seconds she couldn’t remember where she was or why she was here, and then it all came back to her.

She sat up and checked the time. It was only four thirty. She’d been asleep for a few hours, no more. Still, that was more sleep than she’d had in a while.