He was right. Choosing to forego a massive estate in favor of a miniscule cottage would definitely raise alarm bells. And I knew I would have to let go of the cottage anyway. It wasn’t big enough for me and two kids. But there was pain in doing that. A swift pang, squeezing my chest. Because that had been the first home I’d been able to make mine. A place that had always felt safe. Somewhere I was free. The burn behind my eyes intensified.

“Hey.” Mason leaned in closer. “If you want to stay in the cottage, we can. We’ll figure it out.”

“No. You’re right. Your place makes more sense. I just—the idea of leaving it is harder than I thought.”

Mason’s expression gentled. “It was your first real home, wasn’t it?”

How he understood that with what little I had told him was beyond me. But I was starting to suspect there was more beyond the easygoing exterior Mason showed the world. I’d never pushed for more because he was everything I’d avoided since I was fifteen. The spark I felt every time our eyes met meant I needed to run in the opposite direction. But that running and avoiding meant I hadn’t had a chance to truly get to know the man in front of me.

Somehow, knowing there was an understanding there made me want to give Mason a little more. It was reckless, but I couldn’t resist. “It’s been my safe place.”

“I hope my house will be your safe place, too.”

There was so much hope in his eyes, I couldn’t tell him that it would never be that. Because it would never be mine. It would be like Mason was: on loan for a short period. “Thank you. It’s incredibly generous—”

“You don’t have to thank me—”

It was my turn to cut him off. “You want to help.”

“Already finishing each other’s sentences. Practically an old married couple.”

I barked out a laugh. But the sound of raised voices coming from down the hall cut it off.

“I’m sorry. I’m going to have to ask you to leave. You’re not on the approved visitors list,” our daytime security guard, Jefferson, said in a calm but firm tone.

“Our daughter works here, and we need to have a word.”

The voice I hadn’t heard in over a decade had ice sliding through my veins and all of the blood draining from my head. My father.

“Anna?”

My head turned towards Mason’s voice, but I couldn’t seem to get my eyes to focus on him as memories slammed into me as hard as my father’s fists once had.

Hands came to my face. “Breathe. Just breathe. He can’t hurt you. But I need you to concentrate. Where are Justin and Lyla?”