Page 272 of Kentrell

Preferred contact route: parking structure stairwell.

He knew everything.

He’d studied everything.

And yet…

He’d kissed me like I was precious.

Protected me like I was his whole world.

Held me like I was breakable—and worth breaking for.

I gripped the phone and finally croaked, “I have to call you back.”

“Zoe—what’s going on?! You sound—baby,please?—”

“Mama, please!” I snapped, my voice sharp and breaking. “I—just… I need a second, okay? I’ll call you back.”

I didn’t wait for her response.

I hung up.

My hands were shaking so badly I nearly dropped the phone trying to open his contact.

My Honey

I pressedCall.

It rang once. Twice.

My breath was coming fast now, like my lungs didn’t know how to function properly.

Three rings.

Four.

Straight to voicemail.

I tried again.

Voicemail.

Again.

Voicemail.

I stared down at the screen, heart racing, pulse hammering in my ears, until the tears finally broke loose and slid hot down my cheeks.

I wanted to believe this was some misunderstanding.

That there was some other reason.

Some deeper explanation.

But how do you explain a manila folder with a blueprint toendyou?

And why would he keep it?

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