“There are things you don’t know about me.” Things no one could know. Her past loomed right behind her. Things had changed and she should be safer now to venture out and meet people, but the notes suggested otherwise.

“Your former handler called me.”

Handler.

“I . . . you can’t . . .” That’s all she had. A sputtering mess of words that made no sense as a sentence.

He reached out but didn’t touch her. “Easy.”

Memories of her former life smashed into her, stealing her breath. She stepped back, ramming her calf into her favorite chair. “What are you talking about?”

“Evan Williams.” Ben nodded.

Anxiety jumbled and churned in her stomach. “I don’t know who that is.”

He stared at her for a few extra beats without saying a word. “Wildflower at night.”

He knew the name. The right name. And the code.

“How?” She forced that question out as a whisper.

While she fumbled and shifted her weight and generally wanted to crawl under the house and hide, Ben stayed calm. He didn’t fluster or panic. The evenness of his voice wrapped around her. “When everything unfolded a few months ago, and the killing, and you were, well, secretive. I thought . . . you know, maybe . . .”

The wince gave him away.

“Did you think I did it? You thought I killed some random guy who showed up on the island?” Good lord. Talk about a communication misfire.

He backed up that wince with a guilty shrug. “You disappeared for a few—”

“I was hiding!” And she was yelling now. It wasn’t fair to Ben but the idea that he thought she could kill someone almost doubled her over.

“On the island?” Shock sounded in his voice. “Where?”

Was that really the point? “I’m not telling you that. A hiding place ceases to be a good hiding place when you announce where it is.”

“Okay, look.” He held up his hands in mock surrender. “I don’t know details of what happened in your past. I got the call from Evan, pitched as an informal talk between law enforcement professionals, that digging into your identity was . . . I believe the phrase this Evan guy used was frowned upon.”

“Sounds like him.” She could almost hear Evan’s deep voice, all commanding and half threatening. Technically he no longer protected her or worked on her behalf, but he called and checked in often. Offered his support and insisted she get back in the program, just in case. They’d known each other ever since her life changed, and had become friends of a sort. Or the only sort she had.

“Where are the other notes you received?” Ben asked.

“I sent them to Evan.”

“I can call him but I think we both know you took photos.”

She rushed forward, stopping right as her hand brushed his sleeve. Then she dropped it. “I don’t want to do this.”