Page 17 of Give Me Strength

Ashlynn’s dance school.

It’s just after 5 P.M., so she’s there now. I know this because her town car is currently parked outside the school. I can’t help but wonder if Bonnie picking this place is intentional and if this is meant to be some sort of intervention.

Since I’m early, I pick out a corner table so we won’t be disturbed, but one with a direct line of sight to the café entrance. Bonnie arrives shortly after I do, so I know it’s not a coincidence. She said 5:30 P.M., so the fact that she’s also here this early speaks volumes. I can tell she’s still peeved that I won’t give her a definite answer, even with her usual calm demeanor firmly in place.

As she settles into the seat across from me, she gives me a small smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. We exchange pleasantries, place our drink orders, and then the conversation shifts to the matter at hand.

Sort-of.

“So, are you staying?” Bonnie asks, cradling her teacup in both hands.

I could tell the question had been bursting at the seams. Might as well keep her in suspense a little longer.

“It depends,” I tell her.

She picks up her cup. “The question was rhetorical. From what I heard, you’re retired. Or retiring, or taking a leave of absence, depending on whom you ask.”

“You heard wrong. Aspen Grove Psychiatry does alright, so why would I want to?—”

“I wasn’t talking about your practice,” she interjects. “Apparently, you are too valuable to lose, so somebody high up the food chain is dragging their feet on your paperwork.”

Oh.

“And… how would you know that?”

“You’re not the only one with secrets.” She sets her cup down, then folds her arms over her chest. “I still need an answer, Gilbert.”

Uh-uh.

She can’t just drop that on me and expect me to let it slide. There’s a reason people think I work with Doctors without Borders. I’d prefer to keep it that way, in the interest of National Security and all.

“Nobody knows who I work for or what sort of work I do. So either there’s a breach that I’m obligated to report, or your secrets and my secrets overlap, and I need to know how.”

A beat passes, then she lets out a weary sigh. “Unofficially, I happen to be one of the cogs on that food chain. One of the hats I wear is handler. If you must know, I was the reason Everett joined in the first place, except I’m not one for fieldwork, and neither are you. So I’ll ask again, are you staying?”

I nod, convinced for now. We still need to discuss the logistics of Ashlynn’s guardianship, except Bonnie isn’t done.

“Good, ‘cause that would’ve made this next part awkward.”

“What part?” I ask, stirring my coffee absently.

She shrugs. “Your house.”

I don’t follow. “What about my house?”

“I’d like to buy it,” she says as a matter of factually.

“It’s not for sale, and I just told you I’m not going anywhere.”

“Not today, but someday. For Lynn, of course. As a birthday gift.”

I still don’t follow. “It’s a house. Four walls and a roof. What’s so special about it?”

“You have no idea, do you?” She tilts her head, a smirk playing on her lips as she studies me with a quizzical expression. “But that’s not possible since you knew about them the whole time.”

I lift a curious brow.

She shifts in her seat. “I knew about your arrangement with Rachel. How that came to be.”

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