CHAPTER 32
WITH NO REAL need for silence tonight, I let my feet crunch along the detritus of twigs and leaves as I walked alongside Sam to the trucks. It felt like our relationship, such that it was, was balanced on a pinhead, with one wrong move on my part set to doom it to failure. Sam still cared about me, he’d said as much, and I’d never stop caring about him, but the prospect of a long-term future still seemed too good to be true.
There were so many barriers in front of us—the hunt for Tabby, which was bound to be filled with frustrations; the fact that we barely knew each other; and his job. What would the CIA do if they found out he was dating a Russian spy? I’d assassinated a US congressman, for f**k’s sake. Emmy and the rest of Team Blackwood might not mind my heritage, but I co
