His fingers curled around the counter edge. He didn’t even touch the phone—just stared as the message blinked away.
Mika Sato.
A name that wasn’t hers. But something she had used before. He remembered it faintly—when she ran, once, a year ago. The ID she used to book hotels. Pay in cash. Get away.
She was running.
She was going to run.
Without him.
And this time, he didn’t know if he could stop her. Or if he could stop himself from trapping her in a cage forever.
....
Haru made pancakes. She even put strawberries on his, just the way he liked them.
He chewed slowly, watching her.
“Where did you go yesterday?” he asked, his voice casual.
“Grocery run.”
He stared. “You went out of state?”
She paused, eyes meeting his for a second too long. “What?”
“There’s a camera at the gas s
