Page 28 of Never Alone
"I'm sorry to bother you," she said.
"You're not."
"Could I talk to you for a minute? Privately. If that's okay."
Her voice was quiet but steady. It caught a little on “minute.” She paused, started again.
I looked back over my shoulder. Martinez had the grin he'd been wearing for an hour frozen on his face. Davis hadn't blinked. Hutch was making a noise that was supposed to be coughing.
Sam came out of his office. He looked at me. Looked at the bay door. Looked at the table.
"Alright, knock it off. B-shift's coming in."
The crew broke apart, still laughing under their breath. I caught Sam's eye across the kitchen. He held the look for a second and went back into his office.
I walked her out.
We went down the side of the building, around the corner, where the lot ran along the edge of the property. There was a planter against the wall—concrete, low, full of some kind of municipal shrub the city had put in years ago and never replaced. A curb ran beside it. The morning sun was on the wall above us, not down on us yet.
I stopped. Turned.
She'd wrapped her arms around herself. Her fingers were tight on her sleeves.
"Is something wrong?"
She closed her eyes. Took a breath. Opened them and looked up at me.
"You know about the video?"
"Yeah?"
"It's gone viral with millions of views."
I nodded. She looked like she was working up to something, so I waited for her to finish.
"It's a problem for me." Her voice came out flat. "I can't afford the kind of attention it's bringing. Not on me. Not on my son."
"I understand."
I didn't, yet. I was being polite.
She swallowed.
"Noah and I—we're running. From his father. My ex-husband."
I kept my face where it was. The video had been the thing I'd thought we were here to talk about.
"We've been in Havensworth for seven months. He doesn't know where we are. The video—if he hasn't seen it, he'll see it soon. And if he sees it, if somebody who knew me sees it, and?—"
She stopped. Pressed her lips together.
"It's only a matter of time."
Her thumb was working at her sleeve. I didn't think she knew.
I wanted to know what he'd done to her. I didn't ask. I'd been on enough scenes to know what asking cost the person on the other end of the question.
"He's a lawyer," she said. "I tried to fight him before. I hired someone, paid a retainer, and told him everything. Within a week, the case was buried so deep I couldn't find it. The lawyer stopped returning my calls. My ex had connections I didn't know about."
