Then at me.
“I was getting there.”
“No, you weren’t.”
“I had two cabinets left.”
“There are six.”
“Exactly.”
I laughed despite myself and reached for the coffee.
Ellis leaned against the counter beside me.
For a moment, I didn’t look at him.
The panic from upstairs was already fading, but I could still feel how quickly my mind filled in the silence before I knew what was actually happening.
“You okay?”
I glanced at him.
“Yeah.”
His eyes stayed on me.
“You sure?”
There it was.
The chance to tell him I was fine and move on.
I almost took it.
Instead, I set the coffee on the counter.
“I thought you left.”
Ellis went still. “When?”
“When I woke up.”
His expression shifted, and for once, I didn’t have to search his face to figure out what he was thinking.
He understood.
“I wouldn’t leave without telling you.”
“I know.”
The embarrassing part was that I did.
But knowing something and trusting it before I had proof were apparently still two different things.
“I just…” I shook my head. “Your clothes were gone, and you weren’t there, and for a second I thought—”
“I left.”