The words hit her like a physical blow. When was the last time someone had told her that? When was the last time she’d believed it?
“Okay,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper, “I’ll do it. I’ll teach them what I can.”
“Good,” Reaper moved toward the door, then paused, “One more thing: you ever get scared—I mean really scared, the kind where you can’t breathe—you find me. Doesn’t matter where I am or what I’m doing. You find me.”
“Why would I—”
“Because fear doesn’t just go away, Evie. It hides. And when it comes back, it comes back hard.” His eyes held hers. “I’ve seen it before. I know what it looks like.”
Before she could respond, he was gone, leaving her alone in the sterile white light of her medical station.
He knows. He sees the fear I’m trying to hide. And instead of u
