Just in case Bastian finds us. Just in case Brandon makes bail. Just in case the black sedan pulls into the parking lot.
We’ve been living just in case for a week now.
I sit up and swing my legs over the side of the bed. My bare feet find the scratchy carpet. “Okay. I’ll pack.”
“You want help?” she asks.
“El, it’s no biggie, I can—”
“I said I’m good, Yas.”
I hear her hesitate, then move toward the bathroom. The water runs. She’s giving me space, pretending she doesn’t notice how I fumble for things, how my hands search empty air before finding what I’m looking for. I know she thinks she’s doing me a service by trying to take as much as possible off my plate, but I need to fill my time and thoughts with something or else I’ll go insane.
I locate my backpack by the nightstand where I
