I sat beside her and leafed through the lease documents with the vague notion of double-checking the rules and regulations.
“She bolted pretty fast with your keys, Addy. What would you say the chances of her selling the rest of our stuff and disappearing with your Jeep are?”
I hummed thoughtfully as I found the page I wanted. “Fifty-fifty.”
Delly stood up from the table. “I’m gonna go claim a room. It’ll be the best one as payment for my underappreciated efforts.”
“Not under, Delly.Un. Unappreciated.”
“Ugh, no. Delly was the girl who lived in a trailer that smelled like old, leaking air conditioning units and needed braces. I—” She smiled broadly, displaying her straight teeth. “—am Adeline. Future doctor. Effortlessly cool. A boogie board aficionado.”
“You contradicted yourself there at the end.”
She probably would’ve flipped me the finger if we did that sort of thing, but she just poked my shoulder and sauntered away.
As soon as she was out of sight, I gave up the pretense of looking at the papers. I’d barely read a word. I’d been too busy replaying every moment of…
I sat ramrod straight in my chair.
Ohno.
No.
I still didn’t know her name.
How was I supposed to ask at this point? It was so beyond mortifying, there wasn’t even a word for it.
For a decade, I’d worked a job where literally the first thing I did was ask people their names. Miss Sewell wasn’t my patient, but ever since the incident last month, when I’d taken her briefly under my care…
I shook off the forming thought and ran my hands through my hair, my head hanging low.
I’d gotten decent at reading people over the past ten years of running calls. At assessing their well-being, at measuring their words against what evidence was right in front of my eyes.
And in those precious few moments thatshewas here, I’d done the same. It wasn’t an instinct I could turn off.
Something had happened.
I knew it wasn’t with her dad. I would’ve known.
But there was a marked change in her today versus that brief run-in last month. Something in her blue eyes that darkened them, shifted them, making them more… indigo.
Like blueberries picked fresh from the bush after a morning hike or those minutes right after sunset when night hadn’t quite arrived.
Those comparisons were as close as I could imagine, mostly based on what I’d read rather than anything I could actually see.
Not only had her eyes changed, but there were darker circles under them. She hadn’t seemed unburdened when we met, but the cloak of exhaustion that trailed her now was thicker than before.
Last month, she’d been just as serious. Just as dry. But not… hollow.
Not haunted.
My assessment was that Miss Sewell needed a hug and several good nights of sleep.
And a damn first name.
The rumble of my Jeep’s engine sounded several minutes later—I’d recognize it anywhere—but I resisted the urge to get up.
The front door opened, and I quickly swiped a hand through my hair in a halfhearted attempt to tidy it. My heart skipped at her light footsteps, and I forced my gaze to the table in front of me, making a show of pretending I was lost in the chart depicting Live Oak’s quiet hours.
