Ethan noticed. “Sit.”
“I am sitting.”
“Then breathe.”
The words were not gentle, but his voice was.
Daniel waited until I looked steadier. “Do you want police contacted?”
I froze.
Ethan’s eyes moved to Daniel, sharp and warning.
Daniel lifted a hand slightly. “It has to be her choice for now.”
My choice.
Those two words frightened me almost as much as Ryan had.
I had spent years making choices from corners. Which bill could wait. Which meal could be skipped. Which bruise could be covered. Which lie sounded believable.
This choice felt too large.
“I don’t know,” I whispered.
“That is acceptable,” Daniel said. “We can preserve everything while you decide.”
Ethan looked dissatisfied, but he did not argue.
“Ms. Carter,” Daniel continued, “is there anyone you trust who can stay with you today?”
I almost laughed again. “No.”
Ethan’s gaze lowered for the first time.
It was strange watching a man like him realize the size of another person’s loneliness.
“You won’t return to your apartment tonight,” he said.
I stiffened. “I have nowhere else.”
“You have a room here.”
“I work here.”
“You also live in a city where a man who threatened you knows your address.”
“I can’t just stay in your house.”
“My guest rooms do not check résumés.”
The corner of Daniel’s mouth moved as if he almost smiled.
I didn’t. “People will talk.”
“People already talk,” Ethan said. “Usually without having anything useful to say.”
It should have irritated me. It did, a little. But beneath his bluntness was something unfamiliar: certainty on my behalf. I had forgotten what that sounded like.
Daniel took down my account without pressing for painful details. He asked times, places, whether Ryan had used his keycard, whether I had touched anything after returning inside. I answered as best I could. My voice shook less after the first few minutes.
When he finished, he gave me a card.
