The cops wouldn’t do anything about it, so I did.

It landed me six months. Still totally worth it.

Now Colin is on the city council and in a position to be a pain in my ass. Still.

Giving into the temptation, I crumple the letter, and it feels as good as I thought it would. I squeeze it as hard as I can between the fingers of my fist, the paper tearing and digging into my palm. They won’t take my shop. They will not fucking take my shop.

My phone buzzes on the table. Figuring it’s just Rafe or Logan, I’m surprised to see a number I don’t know pop up.

The message catches my attention though.

She’s awake and very lucid. We’re in her room. You don’t want to miss this.

It takes me a few minutes to realize this must be Savannah. I definitely didn’t get her number, so I have no idea how she has mine.

But that’s the last thing on my mind. She’s with Hazel and she’s awake. It’s enough for me, so I jump up and head down the hall, trying not to rush or look too excited as I step into the master bedroom. There on the bed, Savannah is lying next to Hazel, her arm propped under her, turned toward the old woman with a wide smile on her face. They’re laughing, and she’s right. Hazel is incredibly lucid. Probably the first time I’ve seen her this awake and aware since I got here.

“What’s going on in here?” I ask, stealing their attention.

“Oh, Murphy baby, come here,” Hazel says with a smile. “Be a dear and grab me my smokes! I keep a spare pack in that top drawer.”

I don’t even bother scolding her. The woman could smoke two packs a day at this point if she wants to. I’ll be damned if anyone is going to stop her. I light one for her and pass it over as I peel off my boots and climb on the bed, on the opposite side so she’s sitting with her back to the headboard between Savannah and me.

Savannah’s smile is warm as she watches Hazel. The old woman passes the cigarette to Savannah as if this is something they do regularly. It almost feels like we’re teenagers stealing smokes without our parents knowing. Her room has always smelled like tobacco, and the smell is almost nurturing to me at this point.

I steal a glance at Savannah, but her attention is on Hazel. “We were just talking about when you moved in,” she says, biting her lip.

“Everyone thought I was fucking a seventeen year old,” Hazel says in her usual gruff, raspy voice. She doesn’t pull punches that’s for sure.

“Oh god,” I groan, leaning back. This topic is one of Hazel’s favorites. She seems to find it hilarious that everyone suspected she was a cradle-robbing cougar, but it is very disturbing to me.

Savannah lets out a giggle that makes my skin pucker in goosebumps.