Page 104 of The Toy Collector

Whether she says yes or no, there’s no fucking way I’m staying trapped inside another week. Sure, I’ve been able to study remotely, and even finish a paper despite Enzo’s constant hovering. But I still need to attend lectures. I want my fucking life back.

Dr. Voss glances at Enzo before answering, a fraction of a second that speaks volumes about who signs her checks. My jaw tightens. I hate being discussed as if I’m not in the room—even if it’s via silent communication.

“Classes should be fine,” she concedes with a reluctant nod. “But pace yourself. No all-nighters, no excessive stress if possible.”

Well, that’s just not possible. But instead of saying that out loud, I ask the next question on my mind. “And coffee?” Despite trying not to sound desperate for a fix, that’s exactly how it comes out. A week without caffeine has been its own special kind of torture, and I honestly don’t think I can take another day.

The corner of her mouth quirks up in what almost resembles a smile. “Two cups a day wouldn’t kill you.”

“Four,” I bargain, and this time her eyes definitely crinkle.

“Fine, three. But not after 4 p.m., and nothing extra-strong.” She makes a note in my chart. “And water. Lots of it.”

“I can handle that.” Relief floods through me, not just for the coffee, but for the gradual return to normalcy it represents. I slide off the table, my legs steadier than they’ve been in days.

Dr. Voss packs up her tools with efficient movements. “Any lingering symptoms I should know about? Dizziness? Nausea? Headaches?”

“She seems extra tired,” Enzo replies, making me snap my gaze to him. “Is that normal?”

“Hey,” I protest. “I can speak for myself.”

Voss laughs softly. “Go ahead, Piper.”

Reluctantly, I explain, “He’s right. I do seem more tired. But I just think that’s because I’ve been cooped up inside. I need to be able to start living again.”

“That’s very plausible, and I do recommend you go back to your normal routine. I’m just asking that you do it slowly.” She hands me a card with her number. “Call immediately if anything changes. I mean it.”

Enzo pushes away from the wall, the movement fluid and controlled. “Thank you, Dr. Voss.”

It’s a dismissal. She nods, accepting it, and leaves us alone in the exam room. The door closes with a soft click.

“Ready to go home?” he asks, and the way he says home—like it’s ours, not just mine—sends a strange thrill through me that I’m not ready to examine too closely.

I know he sees it as our place since he moved in, but every time he says it, I hate the thought less. Instead of telling him that, I just say, “Yes,” and let him guide me out with his hand at the small of my back.

In the car, as the city slides past the tinted windows, I pull out my phone and text Lena.

Me: Got cleared by the doctor. Not quite 100% but getting there. Miss you.

Her response comes almost immediately.

Lee: OMG FINALLY!! I miss you too, Pipes. Can I come over?I promise to bring chocolate.

My fingers hover over the screen. I glance at Enzo, whose eyes are fixed on the road, one hand on the wheel, the other resting on my thigh in that proprietary way that makes me both irritated and warm.

Me: Yes, please. In a few hours?

When she confirms, I take a deep breath and turn my head to Enzo. “Lena wants to come over.”

His hand tightens on my leg, just slightly, his thumb pressing into the soft part of my inner thigh. “No.”

“I wasn’t asking,” I say, my voice steady. “I’m telling you that my best friend is coming over.”

His jaw works, a barely perceptible movement. “She didn’t look after you at Static. You know I don’t trust her.” He all but growls out that last part.

“She’s not my keeper,” I snap, anger flaring bright and sudden. “What happened wasn’t her fault.”

“She left you alone.”

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