More silence. This had probably been a bad idea, but there was no going back now. He stood in front of her, looking right into her dark brown eyes, and he was finding it hard to steady his breathing. There was something about her that cut to his core. And his decisions had ripped apart everything they’d had together.

“I’ve had quite a day,” she whispered, almost like she was defeated. “But you really don’t need to be here, Hunter.”

He exhaled, not ready to give up. “What are the doctors saying?”

“I’ll be okay. Concussion and some bumps and bruises, but it could’ve been much worse.” Her voice started to shake.

It took every ounce of willpower in his body not to hold her and try to comfort her. Instead, he took a tentative step forward. “But you’re alive, and that’s what matters.”

“Have you heard anything about the investigation?” she asked.

“Minimal. FBI is working a terrorism angle, and Alexandria PD and FBI are on the scene.”

She bit her bottom lip.

He knew that was one of her tells. “Is there something you know?”

“No. I wish I did.”

He’d known Layla well enough to see she wasn’t telling him everything, but he wasn’t in any position to push her.

He heard motion behind him and turned. Two men stood in the doorway. The taller one spoke.

“Ms. Karam, I’m Agent Blakely, and this is Agent Jones from the FBI. Can we ask you some questions?”

“Sure,” Layla said.

That was Hunter’s cue to leave. “I’ll check on you later.”

“That’s not necessary,” she said.

But there was no way he was just going to slip away, never to be heard from again.

Hunter walked out of the room and stood outside of the agents’ line of sight, then pretended like he was looking at his phone while he listened to the conversation. He knew he shouldn’t, but he needed to know she was okay.

Agent Blakely cleared his throat. “Let’s start at the beginning. You were having lunch at the Old Town Grille?”

“Yes.”

“Who were you with?”

“My friend Vivian Steele. Izzy Cole was going to meet us, but she was running late.”

“Do you remember anything suspicious? Anything out of place?” Agent Jones asked.

“No. We were waiting for our food to arrive. Everything was very normal, like it usually is.”

Hunter’s gut was screaming that something was off. There was some reason that Layla was holding back, and he had no idea why.

Agent Jones cleared his throat. “And you work for the State Department?”

“Yes,” she said without hesitation.

Hunter was one of a handful of people who knew State was just a cover for Layla.

“And your friend works there too, right?” Jones asked.

“Yes. We both do.”

“Did you go to this restaurant often?”

“Every Saturday.”

Hunter realized the importance of that tidbit.