The honesty of Mable’s answer surprises me enough that I don’t respond right away. I chew on the inside of my cheek, turning the mug around in my hands. The noise of the diner rises around us as the silence stretches between us for a few more moments.
“Why?” I finally ask.
Her lips press together briefly, like she’s debating how far to go and how much to give. “Because things have a way of changing around him,” Mable explains. “And not always in ways that are easy to control.”
“That still doesn’t explain why I should stay away.”
“No,” she agrees. “It doesn’t.”
“Then explain it,” I press.
Our gazes lock, something quieter but no less intense passing between us now. For a second, I think she’s going to deflect again.
“He would protect you,” she says.
“I know,” I say. “That’s not a ba
