Then Claire’s name appeared on my phone again, lighting the darkness from inside my pocket.
Megan saw it.
“Go home, Rowan.”
“I’m not going back to her.”
“You are going somewhere. I can’t have you here when whoever is watching decides I’ve become interesting again.”
“Come with me somewhere safer.”
“No.”
“The boys need—”
“The boys need calm,” she interrupted. “They need clean bottles and sleep. They need a mother who doesn’t make decisions because a man showed up with regret in his eyes.”
I accepted that because I had to.
“What can I do tonight?” I asked.
She seemed surprised by the question.
“Nothing dramatic,” she said.
“I can manage that.”
A faint, unwilling smile touched her mouth and vanished.
“Bring diapers,” she said. “Size two. Hypoallergenic wipes. Formula, the kind in the gold can, but only if the seal is intact. No cash tossed in the dirt. No security men. No lawyers tonight. Leave it at the office with Mr. Hanley.”
