“Jealous?”

“Absolutely. I’d better get there quick and challenge him to a duel. Paper airplanes at dawn.”

She laughed, grateful for his humor. “I don’t think that will be necessary. Just come as soon as you can. I miss you.”

“Good. I’m glad.” His smile now was genuine. “I miss you too. Bye, love.”

She hung up the phone and let her hand rest on it for a while, feeling the reverberations rocking through her like aftershocks. What had she done? She fell back on her pillows and stared at the ceiling, her mind rewinding the conversation with Gordon, what she had said. What she had not said.

She had tried to back away from him moving in with her. Linnea counted the reasons she’d offered: a roommate; quarantine problems; the need for Cara’s permission. She closed her eyes tight and clenched her fists. She’d told him everything but the one salient truth: she did not want him to move in.

But she’d said yes.

Linnea turned on her side, pulled her covers up over her chilled shoulders, and tucked her knees up, but sleep did not come. In her mind, she wrestled with the unanswered question—why?

chapter eight

If a dark cloud is hovering inside the house, get outdoors.

WHAT WAS UP with Anna?

Linnea stood at the kitchen sink, washing dishes with quick agitated movements. Anna was being a real downer. She stayed in her room, cooked her own food. Rarely spoke. She was more a ghost than a roommate. When she walked into the kitchen, there was a cloud of gloom over her head.

Linnea called out a cheery “Good morning!”

Anna returned a mumbled reply.

Linnea joined her at the table with a piece of paper and a pen, eager to break the ice and begin sharing the house as roommates.

Anna was hunched over her bowl of granola, eating in wolfish gulps. She was still in her navy cotton pajamas and her auburn hair flowed down her shoulders in disarray.

“Now that Hope is gone, it’s just you and me.”

Anna nodded, but didn’t look at her.

Annoyance flared but Linnea pushed on. “I was thinking. Let’s make up some menus for next week and a grocery list. You can cook your favorite dishes, and I’ll cook mine. It’ll be fun. We’ll split the cost right down the middle. What would you like to make?”

Anna looked up from her bowl of granola and finished chewing. She swallowed, then her brows furrowed. “That’s okay,” she said in a monotone, effectively cutting off Linnea’s enthusiasm. “I’ll just cook my own food. I have my own diet and I’m pretty particular.”

“But… it will be more economical to cook together.”

“Tell you what,” Anna said, her expression one of boredom. “We’ll split the basics. Toilet paper, laundry supplies, flour, that kind of thing. The rest we can buy for ourselves. I’m used to cooking for myself. Prefer it.”