ANNA’S POV
I checked the lock twice before I went up. I never check it twice. That was the whole night, right there.
Elias's door was cracked open the way Nina always left it. I stood in the gap instead of going in. He was on his stomach, one arm hanging off the mattress, the night-light throwing its soft circle up above his head.
I stood there and watched him breathe for a while. It didn't help, not the way it usually did.
It looked real. That was the problem. If it had looked staged, back in that café, I could have walked away clean.
I pulled the door back to its three inches and went to bed. I didn't sleep.
Morning came with syrup on the counter before I'd even had coffee. I plated the pancakes — Elias's favorite, the only breakfast that got him dressed without three reminders — a
