Except she didn’t. She had no idea who you were.
Next to me, Mia finally moves. It’s so imperceptible I almost don’t catch it: a slow, shaky nod.
“Yeah,” she croaks. “Yeah, I—I’m good.”
Strong. It shouldn’t be the first word to come to mind, but it is. This woman, whoever she is—she’s way stronger than sheseems.
Way f*****g stronger than Brad Baldwin seemed to be giving her credit for.
But she isn’t strong enough to go home right now.
It’s a split-second decision, but like all the other choices I make, I don’t second-guess it.
“Do you trust me, Mia?”
Trust. It’s a word I’m not used to anymore. It’s been ages since I spoke it. Since I meant it.
There’s no reason she should say yes, but she does. “Yeah. I do.”
“Maks,” I bark, “turn left. We’re taking a detour.
