Page 152 of Faultlines
“The one that appears right before an arrest.”
I laugh. “I have never been arrested.”
“There’s still time.” He studies me. “What happened?”
I consider telling him nothing. Reliving it feels like wading through thick mud. But the silence in my own head is worse. When I finish updating him to my latest life drama he sits staring at me.
“What?” I ask.
“Nothing.”
“That’s never true. You always have something to say.”
“I’m trying to understand how concern for your wife’s safety somehow turned into a conversation about you.”
“See? This is why I didn’t want to tell you.”
“Because I tell you the truth?”
“Because you’re annoying.”
A grin spreads across his face. “I’ve been called worse.”
I stare up at the ceiling not sure what to say.
“You’re worried about her. That’s perfectly normal.”
I lower my gaze, the weight of his words registering. “Yeah. I’m worried about all of them—Claire, Ellie, the girls at the house. Someone targeted her, and I feel helpless.”
He nods thoughtfully. “Then do something about it.”
“What do you think I’ve been trying to do?”
“No, I mean something useful.”
“Helpful—and smug.”
He ignores me. “If it’s going to make you feel better, work from Juniper House for a while.”
Processing his words I ask, “What?”
“You’re an architect, not a brain surgeon. Ninety percent of what you do can be done at any desk or table.”
I sit up abruptly, my mind running through what this means.
“You have that look that says you’re about to handle this in a way Claire is absolutely going to hate.”
A smile tugs at the corners of my mouth.
“Tell me you’re not going to storm into Juniper House and make yourself at home. You need to ask her first. Nicely.”
“Of course I’ll ask nicely. What kind of guy do you think I am?”
“I don’t believe you.”
I stand, reaching for my things. “I’ve already pushed her boundaries enough for one lifetime. I’ll be nearby—close enough to intervene, invisible enough that she can pretend I’m not there if that’s what she needs right now.”
“Not exactly what I said.”
