Her cheeks tinge brighter, her eyes floating away from mine. “Whether I do or I don’t, it doesn’t concern you.”

I swallow. “You looked uncomfortable. I was trying to help.”

“I don’t want your help, Dean. You don’t need to protect me anymore.” She releases a slow breath, tipping her gaze to the ceiling. “And maybe I was uncomfortable. Being here makes me uncomfortable. I’m still trying to get acclimated to people and noise and living again,” Cora explains, her tone strained with telltale emotion. “But I don’t need a babysitter. I just need to rip the band aid off.”

“You think of me as a babysitter?” I try to downplay the audacity in my voice by looking at my feet.

Cora is silent for a long time, prompting me to glance up. I find that her eyes are fixed on me. We hold for a beat before she replies, “I have no idea what you are to me.”

At first, I’m offended. I’m outraged. After all we’ve been through. I’m about to respond, flustered and angry, when I realize… she’s absolutely right. What the fuck are we?

We’ll never be friends. We’re no longer enemies. We can’t be lovers.

Where does that leave us?

Soldiers at war. Kindred spirits. Two lost, wandering souls with nothing, and everything, in common.

Or… maybe not.

Maybe we aren’t something meant to be labeled. We transcend titles.

And that, I fear, is the most powerful thing of all.

I lower my gaze to Cora’s chest, noting the locket dangling between her breasts. She carries a piece of me with her.

She carries a lot of my pieces with her.

I chew on my cheek, scuffing my foot against the tan carpeting. “Have you seen the recent updates on the case?”

Cora looks taken off guard by the change of subject and starts scratching her wrist, her knee bobbing once again. “Yeah. It’s all over my newsfeed.”

Dammit. I was hoping she hadn’t. “It’s all sorts of fucked. He was grooming these couples to fall in love or some shit before he killed them… it’s sick and twisted.”

Her eyes are wide and glazing over, her breath hitching on the inhale. “He said our time was almost up. Did he think…?”

Our eyes meet.

And I’m dead certain we’re both thinking about what happened against that pole before I tore Earl’s face off.

We both jump, startled, when there’s an incessant pounding on the bedroom door. “Cor? You in there?”

It’s Mandy.

“Be right out,” Cora says, her voice clipped.

“You little hussy! Are you with a guy?” Mandy teases, then barges in, apparently not giving a crap if Cora is getting it on with some guy. She stops in her tracks when she spots me. “Oh. Hey, babe.”

I stuff my hands into my pockets. There’s a flash of suspicion in her eyes and it makes me feel itchy. I know Mandy has seen the news reports about Earl’s true motives, but she hasn’t interrogated me yet. I gulp. “Hey. We were just talking.”