It took more than one deep breath before Finn could look Bennett in the eye. His emotions were all over the place, and rage toward Ruby Miller was now at the forefront. But to be a guardian took trust from both sides, and Finn had never doubted Bennett, and he wasn’t going to start now. “Okay,” he said, holding his head up high. “But we’re all going to want answers.”

“And you’ll get them, I promise.”

Chapter Forty-Five

At the end of a desolate road close to the warehouse was an abandoned junkyard, and as Ruby shut off the car, she looked around. Once used to keep trespassers out, the cyclone fence was now sagging from posts covered in rust and drifted in mounds along the bottom were piles of litter. Inside the fence was junk, old and new. Some had been there for years, the rusty carcasses of cars and refrigerators blanketed in leaves, grime, and vines, while nearer the fence was a hodgepodge of tires, mattresses, and discarded appliances that had been brought there more recently. After all, why pay to have junk hauled if it could be left where no one would care?

Ruby raised her eyes to the rearview mirror. “Is this okay, or should I park somewhere else?”

“No, this is fine.” Bennett opened the car door, and taking Lisa’s hand, she helped her from the car. Giving her a quick, reassuring smile, Bennett bent down and looked at Ruby. “I want you to stay here. We shouldn’t be too long. All right?”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m positive. Wait here.”

Bennett shut the door and led Lisa through the junkyard to the fence at the back. Slipping through an opening, they continued through some tall grass until Bennett finally stopped behind a tree and crouched down. “I need you to stay here for a moment.”

“But—”

“I’ll be right back. Just stay here. Don’t move. Okay?”

“Um…okay.”

“Good girl.”

Lisa didn’t move because Lisa couldn’t move. When she’d awoken in her apartment, what little sound existing was deafening. The fridge didn’t hum. It thundered like an outboard motor. The lights didn’t buzz. They hissed like a thousand snakes, and even the ticktock of the clock on the wall resounded like a bass drum. Stock-still, Lisa had sat in a puddle of her own blood for several minutes with her hands clamped over her ears, and then she remembered yoga. A student for years, yoga had taught her how to relax and meditate, and using those lessons, Lisa closed her eyes and concentrated on her breathing. The cacophony had slowly faded away, but it wasn’t fading away now.