“Always.”
She sighed and turned back to the counter. “I won’t ask you to tell me about them. I’ve learned my lesson that you don’t want to talk to me.”
My heart clenched. She didn’t trust me. Her patience had run out. “Leona?—”
“It’s fine. I’ll go back to my room in a minute.”
I didn’t want her to leave. Yet I didn’t know how to ask her to stay.
If she didn’t have nightmares… “Why are you out here?”
She picked at something on the counter. “I have no clue.”
“Tell me the truth.”
It felt like the answer to that question would slot together the chaos swirling through my brain like a hurricane.
“I don’t think I will.”
My breath rushed out of me. “Why not?”
“Because I don’t feel like talking about it.”
“Leona,” I grumbled.
She matched my tone. “Obi.”
Frustration took root in my shoulders. “I can see what you’re doing.”
“And what is that?”
“Trying to teach me a lesson.”
She eyed me. “Is it working?”
“Slightly.” My lips pressed together.
She smiled softly. “Does it matter what I’m doing? When the outcome will be the same?”
My jaw clenched. I was not an idiot. She was playing the same game I played, tossing my thoughts back at me. But despite that knowledge, the frustration grew. I wanted to know. No, Ineededto know.
“Why are you out here?” I asked again. Why, after everything that happened? Why hadn’t she run in the opposite direction as I pushed her farther and farther away?
“It doesn’t matter.”
I stepped closer. “It does.”
“I disagree,” she said with a shrug. I huffed. “Frustrating, isn’t it?”
“Incredibly.” She was normally so open. Her emotions would play across her face like a map to her feelings. But now, she kept everything locked behind a mask of passivity and I couldn’t read anything going through her mind. She was toying with me.
“Why areyouout here?” she asked.
Nightmares. Hope. Dread.I opened my mouth and then closed it without a response. How was I supposed to explain?
Her playful smile turned sour. “That’s exactly it. Right there.”
“What?”
