Adrian holds me for another minute, maybe two, his hand a steady weight against the back of my head, before he speaks into my hair. “We should go out.”
I don’t pull away. “Out where?”
“Anywhere. To get air. To buy you something that isn’t borrowed.” His voice is low, a practical rumble against my ear. “Shopping.”
It’s such a normal, absurd suggestion that a laugh catches in my throat. “Shopping.”
“Yes.” He finally eases back, just enough to look down at me. His eyes are clear, the earlier fury banked to a quiet ember. “You need clothes. I need to see you in something chosen, not given. It will ease your mind.”
I know it’s a distraction. A way to move the pieces on the board while we wait for Marcus’s next move. But the thought of sunlight, of a crowded street, of choosing a color for
