I scoop her up into my arms to carry her back upstairs and, as we walk, she relaxes in my hold and nuzzles in against my chest. This isn’t at all how today should have played out. I can’t even stand here, and be grateful to have her back in my arms, knowing the circumstances that have brought us here.

In her bedroom, the French doors rattle gently in the summer breeze and I notice Lou has moved herself over to a blanket in the corner. I place Kinsley down on the left side of the bed, before stripping down to my briefs and climbing in beside her. She rolls towards me, placing her hand on my chest.

“This one’s new.” She inspects curiously, tracing my fresh ink with her finger, and I hum in response.

The little 444 sits directly across my heart. I got Carter to do it the night Jesse and I had the conversation about him needing me to protect her. The night he asked me to fulfil the promise he made to Kyle, if for some reason he was no longer able to. At the time I thought he was being irrational, but now …

“Why these numbers?” her voice pulls me back into the present.

“444 signifies protection,” I pause, tucking her hair behind her ear. “— and I made a promise.”

Chapter Forty-Seven

Kinsley

Tanner buttons his shirt and tucks it into his slacks as I continue to pick the invisible lint off of my black pencil skirt. My stomach feels as though it’s in my chest, my palms sweaty.

It’s been a long week, the days full of police interviews and funeral planning. Dad’s the one who has had to spend the most time down at the station; he seems to be doing okay though. I almost laugh at that thought. Are any of us really okay? Dark humour has been my saving grace, even though I am convinced that Tanner is only days away from having me locked up in a psych ward.

“Hey girl, it’s just me!” Sophie calls out from downstairs. Did she knock? I didn’t even hear the door open.

Warmth trails up my neck; Tanner’s eyes are on me, I can feel it. He tips my chin up, stealing my attention with his deep blue eyes. “I’ll go down and send her up. When you’re ready, we will get going.”

Pulling a handkerchief from his pocket, he gently catches a tear falling down my cheek. Thank God for waterproof mascara.