I didn't hand the photograph back. I held it against my chest.
"Talia." Kairo's voice had gone careful in a way I was starting to recognize — not a man choosing words to protect himself, but a man rationing the truth. "Give me a second before you ask anything."
"I'm not going to ask anything. I'm going to tell you what I know, and you're going to tell me if I'm wrong."
He didn't answer. That was answer enough.
"Someone has been watching me." I turned the photograph over again, ran my thumb along the edge of the faded ink. ‘Still under my protection.’ "Not since the storm. For years. Since I was a kid."
"Yes."
"You."
"Not always me. Not at first. But yes. Eventually, me."
The wind moved over the black water at the center of the lake, and for a second neither of us said anything.
"H
