Page 80 of Little Nightmare

“You that tired?” he asked. “I thought Lily did pretty good at night.”

It was me. I was the problem. I was sleeping next to Raven. I told myself it was easier and made more sense in the beginning because Lily was in the same room as us, but lately we’d been slowly introducing herself to her room and her crib. Two nights ago, she slept three full hours by herself with the cameras surrounding her.

I could only use her as an excuse to stay close for so long.

It was a good thing though, the sooner I moved into my own room or slept there, the better for my sanity and sleep.

“You there?” Ivan asked.

“Yeah, sorry, just thinking. Anyway, thanks for the update. I haven’t seen any movement but it’s good to know they’ve gone completely underground.”

“They aren’t as brazen as before. Be careful.”

“I will.” I hadn’t introduced anyone new into our lives anyway, and we were cautious of who we even interacted with right down to the grocery store clerk. And even then I was always packing. “I’ll see you later.”

“Get some sleep, man.”

“I will.” I wouldn’t.

I slid my phone into my back pocket and checked my watch. Raven was with that stupid project partner again. Halfway through her pregnancy she’d decided to take the rest of the semester off and finish things the following semester. She had two classes left and that little shit for brains partner she was with last year was thrilled to help her.

I hated him.

And I hated another guy even more, the other partner. New student, which meant I was suspicious until I did a background check that so extensively detailed I could name which molar had a filling.

I groaned and leaned against the tree while they chatted. She was smiling more now. Was he making her smile or was it just that she got a good night’s sleep and the nanny had Lily for the next two hours?

My eyes narrowed when he reached for her.

He knew she wasmarried, right?

She’d told him.

I mean she’d had to have told him.

She had a ring on.

Wait.

My stomach dropped.

She wasn’t wearing it.

She always wore it.

Her left hand went up and touched his elbow.

My stomach sank to the ground. I was too tired to be angry. Was this what giving up felt like? I was torn between ripping hishead off and scattering his body around campus and torturing myself by watching.

I chose torture, obviously.

He held out his hand.

She gave him her phone.

He typed something in and smiled while handing it back. He was good looking enough: tall, muscular, he had dark hair shaved close to his head, and he wasn’t a psychopath—I would know—nor did he have blood on his hands or choose to cut off parts of his body to prove his loyalty.

To any sane person he was a total win. He even had a part time job at Taco Bell of all places.

---