“Me.” This is the one I open and lead her through. Haley steps in tentatively, like there might be someone waiting for us. There’s no one. Nothing gives any sign I ever lived here. A queen-sized bed with a dark bedspread. A dresser. A door leading into what was my bathroom. There are no photos on the walls, and if Haley opened the closet door, she would find it empty. The artifacts of growing up are either stored in my own home or long gone. I don’t bother with the lights. Turning them on won’t reveal anything, and there’s enough of a glow from the window to see.

Haley takes a deep breath and steps further in. She runs her fingertips over the edge of the bed. “It’s a pretty big room.” Her gown rustles with every step she takes. “But you didn’t like it here.” At the window, she pauses with her hands on the sill and looks out. “Oh,” she says, turning her head to look over her shoulder at me. “I’ve always thought it was weird.”

This is as long as I can stay away from her. I join her at the window and put my hands over hers, my body against hers, and lean down to kiss the side of her neck. “You thought what was weird?”

Haley shivers, and I double down on the kiss, turning it into the suggestion of a bite. Just the suggestion, because if I bite her as hard as I want to, it will become the topic of conversation at the dinner table. “That your bedroom is at the front of your house. I thought—I thought it would be in the back, hidden, because you keep everything a secret.”

“But?”

“But you like to be able to see the driveway. To see if anyone’s—” I run a hand down the front of her dress and press it between her legs. Haley gasps. “To see if anyone’s coming.”

“You’re the only one coming right now.”

“That’s not what I meant.” She’s squirming now, exactly as I thought she would. “I meant—you’re always trying to keep everyone safe. All those people downstairs think you’re so terrible, and—”

“Keep your hands on the windowsill.”

Haley actually whimpers when I step back, but she keeps her hands where I told her. “You’re not terrible,” she whispers.

“Am I not?” I find the zipper, hidden in the back of her dress, and tug it down. There is no more exquisite gift than Haley Constantine, soon to belong to me in every way there is on earth.