After I finally let her go, taking the first deep breath I’ve taken all day, I pull her against my chest. I should ask her what’s bothering her, but words don’t come easily for me. Instead, I hold her, kiss her forehead, run my hands along her stomach. And I hope it’s enough.

“Murph,” she whispers, so quietly it comes out as a breath.

I answer with a grunt. Instead of her reply, I feel her swallow. Whatever it is, I can tell she’s too nervous to speak.

“What is it?” I ask, trying to be as gentle as I can. I feel her tense again, and I wait, desperate to know what is on her troubled mind today.

“Thank you again,” she says finally. “For the tattoo.”

I know it’s not what she wanted to say, but I don’t know how to get her to open up if I can’t ask the right questions.

“You don’t need to thank me,” I answer.

She doesn’t speak again, and it’s a long while before I feel her breathing change to the heavy rhythm of sleep. Her gentle weight in my arms has already started to feel more familiar than foreign. I keep telling myself that things with Savannah are easy, but I’m starting to wonder if they’re easy because she doesn’t ask much of me. How much longer will it be easy? How long until she demands something more? Words, feelings, commitment?

Unless she doesn’t want that either…

It dawns on me that Savannah’s quiet mood lately is quite possibly from the inevitability of the end. I don’t know where she will go after the business is done. Will she stay here with Ruby? Will she leave Wickett? Were my suspicions true that she was only around for the reward at the end and now she’s finding it hard to move on?

Will I be ready for that?

I remember how I felt the day Ryder left, taking his money and moving on to something new. Something better.

The vision of Savannah driving off without coming back leaves a solid chunk of ice in my chest, and it hurts me to think about it.

Chapter 15

We finally made an official statement to the media, who made an official statement to the city so that everyone who was anyone in Wickett would be there for Hazel’s funeral. Well, we called it her funeral, but the four of us knew that this was all for show. The real party is next weekend, which we moved a week away to give us more time to plan it. Only her real friends are invited, and the media can know nothing about it.