Then I head into the breakroom where Lana is drinking a coke, kicked back with her feet crossed at the ankles as she stares at the TV. I lean against the doorjamb, studying her easy grin.
She has no idea at how sick the world is. I hate that I can’t take her home right now. Hate that this got more complicated and now I need to stay. She’s the only thing keeping me sane right now.
So much for spending some time in bed apologizing even more.
Chapter 13
Be not ashamed of mistakes and thus make them crimes.
—Confucius
LANA
Logan is gone for a little while when I suddenly see Lindy walk in front of the breakroom with Laurel. I guess she was watching the news closely, ready to follow through with what I told her to do.
Lindy’s eyes widen in shock when she sees me, and I wink, holding my finger over my lips as the universal shhhh sign, while using my other hand to gesture to my visitor’s badge.
She masks her surprise immediately, and Laurel grins at me, giving me a small wave. I get a little worried when I see Hadley suddenly approach them, looking in at me.
Laurel diverts her attention to Hadley, as Hadley narrows her eyes at me. “Can I help you?” she asks.
A guy walks up, and he gestures to Laurel and Lindy. “They have information on the Ferguson case. I escorted them up, but I can’t find SSA Bennett.”
My stomach flips just hearing his name. I hope he doesn’t let me down. My instructions were for Lindy to seek out his team, but not by name. He’ll get her custody of Laurel if he’s the man I think he is, without treating her like a criminal for being linked to me—the monster I hide from him.
“I’ll take them to conference three,” Hadley tells him, eyeing me suspiciously again. Laurel glances at me one last time, but Lindy remains a face of stone, carrying out her part perfectly.
Laurel thinks I’m an angel. She probably thinks no one else can see me. In her eyes, I’m keeping a close watch on her, making sure she stays safe, just as I promised.
She’s clean now. She’s also wearing new clothes that Lindy must have picked up for her on the way here.
“Hey, what’s going on?” I hear a familiar voice ask. Craig? Is his name Craig?
I think so.
I don’t hear anything after that, because they get too far away. Instead, I feign interest in the TV, drinking the soda I bought from the vending machine in here.
Lindy probably thinks I’m ballsy as fuck for being here right now. She has no clue how tangled up I’ve gotten myself.
But they’re looking for a monster.
Not a girl who loves red.
&
nbsp; Not a girl who is falling in love.
Not a girl who died ten years ago.
More time passes before I feel eyes on me, and I dart a glance to the doorway to see Hadley just staring at me. Her eyes are definitely suspicious as she appraises me without any discretion.
Surely Laurel didn’t tell her. And certainly not Lindy.
Then again, I’d be in an interrogation room if they had. She’s been suspicious of me from the start, so she’s obviously still beating that dead horse.
To be certain, I arch an eyebrow at her, as though I’m daring her to say something. She doesn’t speak.
Her eyes are rimmed red, as though she’s been crying. Surely she didn’t care about Ferguson. So why cry?