“Even if,” she replied. “The two of you are good together, Gin. All I’m saying is don’t give up on him just yet. He may still surprise you.”

“It’s hard, though,” I said in a soft voice. “So hard. He broke my heart.”

It was something I hadn’t admitted to anyone. I’d barely acknowledged it myself. But Owen keeping his distance from me after I’d killed Salina, well, it had hurt. I hadn’t expected him to be happy about what I’d done, but I hadn’t expected him to go completely radio-silent either. Oh, I knew why he’d done it, and I probably would have done the same if our positions had been reversed. But it had still broken my heart and brought all of my old fears and worries roaring back to the surface. Fears that Owen wouldn’t be able to accept me any longer for who I was and what I’d done to the woman he’d loved—even if I’d had reasons for my brutal actions.

“Go on,” Bria said. “You’re not going to solve anything just standing there staring at him.”

“Since when are you playing the part of the big sister?”

“Since now.” She grinned. “Now, get.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I said, giving her a small salute with my hand.

Then I squared my shoulders, lifted my chin, and went to see what he wanted.

* * *

I followed the faded, peeling, blue and pink pig tracks on the floor all the way over to Owen, who sat in a booth in the back close to the restrooms.

“Hi,” I said.

“Hi.” He smiled. “Can you sit for a minute? I’d like to talk—if that’s okay.”

“Sure.”

I slid into the opposite side of the booth from him. Sophia raised her eyebrows and gave me a questioning glance, but I waved, telling her to finish what she was doing. Owen wasn’t here to eat. Instead, he stared at me, and I looked back at him. Perhaps it was my imagination, but his violet gaze seemed clearer than I remembered—calmer too. As if he’d finally made peace with some of his demons. I wondered if any of them were Salina—or maybe even me.

“I went to Jillian’s funeral yesterday,” he finally said.