92

REID

I go quiet. The only sound in the car is the low hum of the road beneath us and the radio playing too softly to make out the lyrics.

“She’s good at pretending,” I say eventually. “Always has been.”

Adeline’s voice is barely above a whisper. “So those two weeks I didn’t hear from you…?”

She doesn’t finish. Doesn’t have to. But her eyes are suspiciously glassy.

I save her the effort. “It was on